Let Me Fall
by MourningBlade
Summary: What happens when fate is tempted? What if Lily fell in love with someone else? James struggles to prove he loves Lily above all else. But will she ever see it? A version of Sense and Sensibility.
1. Chapter 1

Lily stood carefully, brushing off the back of her school robes as she did so.

"I'd better go." She said, hoping that she'd rid herself of the majority of the dirt and bits of pollen collected from sitting in the grass.

"So soon?" James Potter looked up at her regretfully, rumpling his hair. Merlin, she hated it when he did that. "We've barely worked out the patrol schedules."

Lily sighed and rolled her eyes. "You're just trying to stretch this out as long as possible, for the sheer pleasure of _annoying _me."

He grinned, his hazel eyes appearing almost golden in the bright sun. "Now, now, that's hardly a fair accusation, Evans. Say rather that I'm stretching this out for the sheer pleasure of your _company_, and you'll be closer to the mark."

Lily sighed again and looked away from him, towards the sparkling vastness of the lake.

"Potter." She warned. "You're violating the ground rules. I'd hate for Hogwarts to be short a Head Boy so early in the term..."

He laughed, a deep throaty sound. "The Head Girl resorting to violence over a little harmless flirting. I never would have thought you had it in you, Evans. That's ok, I like them _fiesty._"

Now _that _really was crossing the line. Lily glared at him, her hands going instinctually to her hips. "You're such a git, you know that?"

He stood too, the grin never leaving his face. "So you keep telling me. But I have to wonder if you really mean it."

"Oh, _Potter!_ I suppose if we're going to communicate at all this year I'm going to have to learn to speak fluent moron. Apparently it's the only language you speak." She bent over, gathering up the assortment of books and scrolls spread out across the grass and tucking them into her bag.

His eyes widened in mock hurt. "Oh, _Evans_, how you wound me!" He pressed a hand to his heart and staggered about.

"I can see that the years have really improved your maturity level." She remarked dryly, rolling her eyes. "I'm guessing that you could give the average three-year old a run for their galleons."

Lily lifted her bag to her shoulder, sagging a bit under the immense weight. Why in Merlin's name had she allowed Potter to talk her into meeting out here? Oh, right, so that he'd shut up. She shifted it slightly, hoping to relieve some of the pressure. Potter noticed--his eyes narrowed and he approached her purposefully.

"Let me help you." He said, favoring her with a charming smile, his hand reaching out to take her bag.

She made no move to relinquish the bag.

"I've got it well under control, Potter. Your assistance and your chivalry are quite unnecessary."

"Just let me help you." He persisted, making a grab for it.

She dodged him, spinning deftly away.

"I'm _fine,_ Potter. I'm not some wilting, pureblood flower that can't manage to carry a few books." She said hotly.

He sighed in vexation. "You're just being _silly_. Your bag is _heavy_. It's a _long way_ into the castle. Why can't you just give in for once?"

"Not happening, Potter. Why don't you direct your attentions at the sort of girl who requires that sort of chauvanistic display, hmm?"

His face darkened and his brow furrowed. She'd struck a nerve.

"I don't want some other girl, Evans." He replied through clenched teeth. "I want _you._ As well you _know_. But none of that changes the fact that you're just being _difficult_."

He grabbed the bag, latching on to it and attempting to wrest it from her grasp.

"Let go, Potter, you daft _git_!" She hissed, clutching the strap and pulling back.

"No." He replied stubbornly, holding fast and refusing to let go. "I'm going to help you whether you want it or not."

She pulled harder, throwing her weight into it. "Why can't you ever take 'no' for an answer, Potter?"

He sighed. "You know what? _Fine._ If that's the way you want it, carry your own bag!" He let go.

This would have been fine, except that Lily was still tugging. The bag sprang free with the sudden lack of resistance, the force knocking Lily's feet out from underneath her and sending her sprawling down the steep embankment towards the lake. Everything went dark for a moment. When her vision cleared, Lily looked up to find a tall, masculine figure standing over her. Astonishingly enough, it wasn't Potter! The boy bent over, looking down at her with an expression of deep concern on his face.

"Per amor di Dio! Che peccato!" He exclaimed, extending his hand to her. "Are you alright, _bella_?"

Lily stared at his extended hand, wondering who he was and how in _Merlin's name_ she'd never noticed him before. He was ruddy gorgeous!

"I'm...fine..." She managed, accepting his hand and allowing him to pull her to her feet. A searing pain ripped through her left ankle, buckling her knees. She started to fall. The boy caught her easily, preventing her from hitting the ground.

"I think not, _bella. _You are injured." His arms tightened about her waist and Lily was suddenly very conscious of his lips, which were mere inches from hers. She looked up at him, struggling to control her blushes at his close proximity.

"I'll be ok. Really." She insisted, her voice whispery. "You don't have to..."

"Please, _bella_, let me help you." A slight smile creased his darkly handsome features. "I can scarce allow you to injure yourself further do to negligence on my part." Merlin, he had dimples! Lily felt her resistance melting away.

"I suppose I could use some assistance inside." She admitted, averting her eyes from his. It should be illegal for a man to look that good.

He smiled at her again. "Molto buono." He replied, scooping her up into his arms, bridal-style, before she had time to register what he was doing.

"Lily! Lily are you ok? I'm so--" Potter stopped dead in his tracks, taking in the sight of her in the strangers arms.

"_Potter_, che schifo." said her rescuer with no little animosity, glaring at James.

Potter glared back. "_Giovanni_." He spat.

So they knew each other. _And_ they were far from friends. Interesting. How was it that Potter had met him and she hadn't? Giovanni. He was Italian, then. Hmm...

"I'll thank you," Potter said through clenched teeth, as he closed the distance between them. "to unhand the lady."

Giovanni looked from her to Potter and back. "So you are with _him_, then bella?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Hardly." she scoffed. "He's the reason I fell down the hill."

"Lily!" Potter protested, guilt and anger warring across his features.

Giovanni smirked. "In that case, _idiota_, I'd hardly be much of a gentleman if I turned her over to your care."

"You're hardly much of a _person_ at all, much less a 'gentleman.' Now, _hand over _the lady before I get upset." James retorted, fingering the wand Lily knew must be in his pocket.

Now that did it. How dare Potter insult such a kind, considerate person, especially since her injury was his fault in the first place!

"What the _hell_ is wrong with you, Potter? Have you suffered one too many blows to the head during Quidditch practice?" Lily blazed, her eyes narrowing. "You pushed me down a ruddy hill! What it _Merlin's name _makes you think I'd even _consider_ going with you? I wouldn't chose your company if it were a decision between you and Voldemort himself!"

James flinched, his face going taut and pale.

Giovanni looked down at her, an expression of admiration and deep respect on his face.

"Che donna!" He murmured. He turned back to Potter. "The lady's made her choice, Potter, and once again you're on the losing end of things."

"Lily!" James tried again, desperation in his voice. "You-you don't understand! He--"

"I understand perfectly well, Potter. Better than you think." She retorted, flipping her hair.

"But--" James protested weakly.

"I said _drop it!"_ She demanded.

"Ok then, Lily. If that's what you want." He conceded, sounding upset.

"I do."

Giovanni started towards the castle.

"Don't think this is over, Giovanni." James called to him in a sudden fit of anger.

"At your, pleasure, Potter." Giovanni replied smoothly. "At your pleasure."


	2. Chapter 2

"Does it hurt badly, Lily?" Meredith asked, touching Lily's bandaged ankle lightly.

Lily shrugged. "Not really. Though the potion Pomfrey made me down was ruddy painful to drink." Lily paused. " 'What did you expect, pumpkin juice?' " She mocked the mediwitch's favorite saying.

Meredith laughed. "At least you got flowers out of the deal." She said, gesturing at the bouquet of roses at Lily's bedside.

Lily smiled dreamily. "Yeah. Sweet of him wasn't it?"

Ophelia rolled her eyes. "Who _exactly _sent them?"

Meredith was suddenly all ears. "Yes. Details, _please!_"

"I suppose I have Potter to thank for it, in a round-about way." Lily began. "If he hadn't pushed me down the hill, I never would have met Giovanni."

"_Paolo Giovanni!_" Meredith squealed, clutching her hands to her chest. "Oh Lily, you're so lucky! He's gorgeous!"

"You've met him then? Tell me everything!" Lily demanded, sitting up.

Ophelia crossed her arms, frowning. "I find it hard to believe that James _pushed_ you, Lily."

"Well...he's our year..." Meredith began, ignoring her sister. "He's Italian...hmm...keeps to himself mostly..."

"Our year? How is it that I've never met him?" Lily wondered, absently twirling a lock of her impossibly red hair.

"Um..." Meredith seemed hesitant. "You see...he's...well..."

"Because," Ophelia huffed indignantly. "He's a _Slytherin._" She spat out the last with distaste.

"Yeah." Meredith nodded. "That."

Lily shrugged. "Doesn't change the fact that he rescued me from Potter."

"Almost a Gryffindor thing to do." agreed Meredith.

Ophelia sighed. "Lily. You do _not_ need to be rescued from James!"

Meredith rolled her eyes. "Here she goes again! Really Ophelia, why is it that you always take Potter's side in these things?"

Ophelia glared back. "Someone has to be the voice of reason." She turned to Lily. "James is a _nice_ bloke, Lily. And you'd see it if you gave him half a chance."

Now Meredith sighed. "Potter is immature." She retorted.

Ophelia's frown deepened. "I'd say _fun_."

"And obnoxious." Put in Lily.

"Try _persistant_." Ophelia argued.

"And chauvanistic." added Meredith.

"_Chivalrous._" retorted Ophelia.

"And--" Lily began.

"Right here." A deep voice interrupted her.

All three girls looked up.

"Potter..." Meredith said coldly. "What are _you_ doing here?"

James approached the bedside, pulling a bouquet of flowers from behind his back.

"I came to apologise." He paused. "And to bring a peace offering."

"Someone already beat you to it." Meredith replied, nodding towards Lily's bedstand.

He glanced over at the bouquet of roses. He smirked.

"Mine are nicer."

He was, of course, right. Paolo's roses were nice, _flashy_, but James' flowers had the advantage of being her favorite--daisies. How could he possible have known?

"Yes." Lily admitted grudgingly. "They're my favorite. How did you know?"

He smirked again, his eyes flashing briefly to Ophelia. "I have my ways."

Ophelia looked away, trying a little too hard to appear nonchalant.

Ophelia. She really should have known.

"Well...thank you." Lily said, accepting the bouquet. "But it's hardly mature of you to deride someone else's gift. Especially when _Paolo_ didn't push me down the hill."

James' smile dimmed considerably. "Why is it," he said, looking rather disgruntled. "that I've known you for close to seven years, and I've _never _been able to convince you to call me James, and you've known _Giovanni_ for a couple of _hours_ and you're already on a first name basis?"

Lily arched a brow. "I'd say _quality_ of interaction rather supercedes _quanity_, _Potter_."

Merlin, did that sound as bitchy as she thought it did? Apparently so, because both Ophelia _and _Meredith were giving her disapproving looks, while Potter just looked sullen. Great. She sighed. "Would it make you feel better if I called you James?"

He brightened. "Yes. Actually it _would_."

"Fine, _James_."

"There now, was that so hard?"

She pouted a little. "Yes. Actually it _was_."

Now he arched a brow. "Mocking me, Lily?"

She shrugged, her eyes widening in feigned innocence. "Who? Me? _Never._"

James laughed. "Oh, Lily! The things you _do _to me. You have no _idea_ how much your cheek turns me on. "

Lily colored. "Ground rules, James." She said quickly. "You're violating them again..."

He shrugged and winked at her. "Rules are rather made to be broken, don't you think?"

"No. No I don't. But then _I'm_ responsible." She flipped her hair. He was annoying her. Again.

"I'm responsible." He argued. "In my own way."

"Sure you are." she scoffed.

He sighed. "Well...I guess you see what you want to see, Lily." He ran his hands through his hair, his expression suddenly serious. "Speaking of which...promise me you won't go out with _him_."

"Paolo?"

"_Giovanni_." He corrected.

"Potter..." She warned.

"_James._" His brow was furrowed.

Lily glared at him. "You're _James_ just so long as you follow the ground rules. Violate them, and you're _Potter_ again."

"Lily..." His voice took on a plaintive tone. "Will you just listen to me--_trust_ me--for _once_? You-you _can't_ date him. He's a complete _git. _You have no _idea_ who he is. _What _he is. He isn't the sort of bloke you want to get involved with." He paused. "And this isn't just about me fancying you."

She gave him a look.

He shifted uncomfortably. "Ok, maybe it is a _little_ about that. But I'd tell you the same thing even if I didn't. He...he's no good Lily! Promise me. Please?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Sure, James. Whatever you say."

"Will you at least _think_ about what I said?" He sounded desperate.

She shrugged, smirking slightly. "Of course. And not the crazy, where-the-hell-is-he-going-with-this _ranting_, but the Paolo bad part. Got it."

"It's a lost cause, isn't it?"

A mixture of frustration and depression crossed his face, and Lily once again felt guilty--cruel. He sounded so adamant...

"James..." Lily began, not really sure what to say.

"Forget it." he said dismissively, turning away. "I'll catch you around then."

He left without another word.


	3. Chapter 3

Lily tugged absently at her robes as she walked down the gloomy corridor, conscious of how creepy the castle was at night, _alone._ It was times like this that she wished for Potter, who always offered her his arm. She understood that he was hocked off, but did he have to switch his patrols with Lupin? Not that Remus was a bad sort of patrol partner, but he wasn't _James. _Not only was James uncommonly good at detecting students in violation of curfew--he had a sixth sense for it--but he was good company. There were never any uncomfortable silences or awkward moments, and if he _did _flirt with her rather shamelessly, it still wasn't as bad as Lupin's stocism. And the attentions were flattering if nothing else.

James was _avoiding _her, of that point Lily had no doubt. How he managed it, she had no idea, especially given the fact that they shared a dorm, but manage it he did. She hadn't seen more than a glimpse of him--in class--in over a week. At first, she was greatful. But now...she found she rather missed him--a _bit. _They weren't friends per say, but they'd developed a comfortable level of companionship that Lily..._missed_.

"Buona notte, bella."

Lily nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Merlin, Paolo, you scared me!" Her heart was pounding in her chest, but fear quickly melted into something quite _pleasant._

"Sorry, bella, it was not my intent." He smiled broadly, revealing those delightful dimples. Her knees felt suddenly weak.

She smiled at him. "I have to wonder, just what _was_ your intent, considering it's well past curfew."

"To see you." He said simply, moving closer.

Heat rushed to her cheeks as her heart-rate increased. Say _something, _she urged herself.

"Oh." she managed.

Brilliant. Just brilliant.

"I thought," he said, running a hand through his shoulder-length dark hair. "that you might not be opposed to accompanying me on a walk, bella?"

Suddenly she found her voice. "You did hear me say that it's well past curfew, right?"

He grinned sheepishly, looking down. "I know. But I wanted to spend a little time with you, bella."

She hesitated, torn between desire and propriety. Desire won out.

"What did you have in mind?"

He looked up and winked. "A walk by the lake?"

Something about his demeanor reminded her strongly of Potter. It was precisely the sort of irresponsible, insensible thing that _he_ would suggest. But why did the same words irritate her when James uttered them and send delightful shivers down her spine from the lips of Paolo?

As if thinking his name conjured him out of the thinest air, James rounded the corner and stopped cold, staring at them.

So _now_ he shows up. Typical. She turned to Paolo.

"Sounds like fun."

Paolo shot a glance at James, before bowing to her slightly and offering her is arm. She was on the verge of accepting when she realized that Potter was tugging at her.

"Lily," he said through clenched teeth. "a word please?" He drug her a slight ways off, presumably for the sake of privacy. It was completely ridiculous. The accoustics of the castle would send echos of their voices down the entire corridor. Paolo would still be able to hear them as clearly as if they carried on the conversation in front of him.

"Yes, James?" she said sweetly, arching a brow.

He was frowning at her, his eyes set and brow furrowed. He was pissed. "I _thought_ that we had decided that you weren't going to see _him_. We had a nice long chat. Giovanni is _bad. _Does that ring any bells?"

She rolled her eyes. "Only the one that goes off in my head when I'm extremely bored."

He sighed. "Lily, please? Can we talk seriously?"

Now she sighed. "You didn't seem too interested in talking to me earlier this week."

His entire expression changed in a flash, from annoyed to intrigued. "Is that what this is about? You're hocked off because I was...busy?"

For _once_, damn him, he was right. It annoyed the hell out of her to admit it, even to herself. She decided to make him pay for it.

"Oh, _busy. _Is that what they're calling skivving off duties now a-days? Hmm...well I suppose I'm too _busy_ for this conversation." She pivoted on her heel, starting back towards Paolo, who was watching them with no little interest. James caught her arm and spun her back around.

"You _know_ I wouldn't avoid you unless it was important." It wasn't a question.

"That's neither here nor there, Potter. Now if you'll excuse me..."

She tried to turn away again, but he held her arm fast.

"I thought we'd decided you were going to call me James?" His tone was light, teasing, but Lily could tell the issue was important to him inspite of this.

"Fine. _James._ Are you happy now?" She glared at him.

He smiled. "Honestly? No. Not really. Is there _anything_ I can do to convince you not to go with him?"

She smiled back. "No. Not really."

"Mocking me again, Lily? Didn't I _tell _you how much that turns me on?" He gave her a once over with his eyes in a way that made her blush. "What if I _kissed_ you?" The last was a husky whisper.

She took a step backward, uncertain if he was joking or not. "Ground rules, Potter." She said hastily, her eyes on Paolo,

He shot a dark glance at the handsome Italian, and looked rather thwarted. "Relax, Lily. I was _kidding_. But seriously. There's nothing I can do?"

She smirked. "You can watch me walk away." She freed herself from his grasp and walked towards Paolo, swaying her hips as she did so. She knew he was watching--he'd likely have watched without her invitation--so she exaggerated the movements with every intention of torturing him. By the time she took Paolo's arm and looked back, James had vanished.

She finally turned her attention to Paolo, who was watching her face.

"Ready then, bella?"

She smiled, accepting his arm. "Quite."

"Slumming again, Giovanni?" inquired a cold, sardonic voice.

They looked up. The owner of the voice--a tall, lanky youth with rather stringy dark hair--stood at the end of the hallway, a smirk on his lips.

Snape.

Lily could have cried in vexation. Were they doomed to be forever interrupted?

Paolo turned to her. "Never you mind him, bella."

Snape raised a brow. "I suppose Evans _is_ one up from your last conquest. But do tell me, where _did_ that charming accent come from? I find it quite intriguing, considering you were born and raised in England."

Paolo dropped her arm and glared at Snape. "Snape, what the _fuck?_" He hissed, all traces of his accent completely gone. "I could have milked that for a couple of weeks at _least!_"

Huh? Her jaw dropped involentarily as she stared at him in disbelief.

He seemed to realize what he'd done, for he turned to her, an apologetic expression on his face.

"I guess this looks rather bad?"

Lily smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "Yes. It does. Which is why I've decided to hurt you until you explain." Her wand came out and she pointed it at him.

Snape chuckled. "Got to love the mudblood."

Lily favored him with the full force of her glare. He shut up, wisely.

Paolo held up his hand in supplication. "No need for that, Lily. Look...you're a hot bird, ok? I figured out a long time ago that girls dig the accent. So when I saw you, saw that you were ruddy gorgeous...I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry."

"So you lied to me. Manipulated me into liking you. How very _Slytherin _of you." Her hand went to her hip.

"Well..." He seemed at a loss for words. It was rather...cute.

"How long did you intend to keep up this little charade?" She demanded, willing herself not to look at those adorable dimples.

"Till he got laid." Put in Snape.

Paolo glared at his fellow Slytherin. "Shut it, Snape. You're not helping."

Snape studied his fingernails casually. "Wasn't trying to."

"I...don't really know." He finally said.

"Brilliant." Lily was fed up. Cute or not, he was a pig. She turned, preparing to walk away.

"How many Gryffindors do you see dating Slytherins?" He asked suddenly. She stopped and turned slowly around.

"None." she replied cautiously.

"Exactly. And why do you suppose that might be?" His handsome features were deadly serious.

"I suppose...part of it could be the old interhouse rivalries..." She answered slowly.

He took her hand. "Would you have even given me a chance if you'd known the truth up front? Be honest now."

She sighed. "No." It pained her to admit it.

"See? I'm not excusing my actions, but I just wanted a chance with you. I was willing to do whatever it took to get it. Doesn't that count for anything?" His cinnamon-colored eyes were pleading with her.

"Yes..."

Something that sounded like a muffled exclaimation of 'what the fuck?' caught her attention. She looked around. If Paolo or Snape had heard the noise, they gave no indication of it. Great. She was hearing Potter in her head now.

Paolo looked hopeful. "So you'll give me a chance then?"

Why did he have to be so damn gorgeous? "Yes. But you can forget about tonight."

He smiled. "No worries there. I'm just glad I didn't totally blow it."

She smiled back. "Oh, you're not out of the woods yet, Giovanni. I _fully _intend to make you pay." She pivoted on her heel, heading off down the corridor towards the Head Dorm without another word.

"Merlin, I _hope_ so." She head him mutter under his breath. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away.

* * *

_A/N: Ok. So you guys didn't really think that Giovanni was for real did you? Of course you did. At least, you were supposed to. I hope a few of you were surprised..._


	4. Chapter 4

"--_hell _have you been?"

The voice belonged to Sirius Black, and he appeared to be walking along, talking to himself. Lily stopped, intrigued. Black was a lot of things, but crazy didn't happen to be one of them. Acting on an impulse she didn't fully understand, Lily darted into the shadows behind a statue, hiding herself from view as he approached.

"You were following _her _weren't you?"

Black stopped, staring at the empty space to his right quite intently. Potter's head appeared out of thin air, startling Lily and forcing her to clasp her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. The head was soon followed by the rest of his body, as he pulled a cloak-- an _invisibility_ cloak--from about his shoulders and began folding it into a neat little package.

"Uh..."

Black rolled his eyes. "Dumbledore _said_--"

"I don't _care _what Dumbledore or anyone else in the Order says. There is no _fucking_ way I'm leaving her alone with him. Not after what he did to that Muggle over the summer."

Black sighed deeply, scowling. "I really don't get it, Prongs. Why don't you just give it up and tell her to _fuck off_? She _did_ tell you she'd rather spend time with Voldemort. Coming pretty damn close to it, isn't she?"

James ran a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh of his own. "You _know_ why. Are you really going to make me say it again?"

Black rolled his eyes again. "You're in _love_with her. Right. Hearing you say that _never_ gets old."

"I can't help how I feel, Padfoot." James paused, as if deep in thought. "Which is why I need a favor."

Black's eyes widened in horror. "No _fucking _way!"

"You haven't even heard what I'm going to ask yet." James pointed out.

"I don't have to. It's written all over your face. You want me to babysit the shrew, don't you?"

James looked down at the floor. "I want her _protected_. But seeing them--together--it's _killing_ me. And he hasn't even touched her yet. I...well frankly, Pads, I can't stand it. Even the _thought_ of it..."

Black's expression softened, he still looked annoyed but compassion mingled with it.

"Fine." He muttered darkly. "But you owe me."

James grinned and slapped Black on the back. "After all the times that I've saved your sorry arse? The way I reckon it, you still owe _me_."

"My arse wouldn't have needed saving if you hadn't gotten it into trouble in the first fucking place." Black retorted, smiling a bit.

James smiled back. "That is beside the point." He handed Black the bundle. "Here. You'll need this." His eyes narrowed. "I'm counting on you to keep her safe."

"I said I would." Black replied, tucking the cloak away. He looked up at James. "Did you get it then?"

James grinned. "Yep." He patted his robes. "Right here."

Black's eyes grew wide. "You mean you've been lugging that thing through the castle this entire time?"

James looked a bit abashed. "Yeah..." He admitted.

"Fuck Prongs! Dumbledore's going to be seriously hocked off when he finds out!"

"Which is why we won't be telling him." James said logically.

Black grinned in comprehension. "Right." He paused. "About damn time you got the ruddy thing!"

"Hey!" James protested. "It wasn't like it was _easy_! No one else could nick it, and most of _them_are fully trained Aurors."

Black grinned again. "Excuses, excuses!" He hit James on the back. "At any rate, you'd better get to Dumbledore and report."

James sighed. "True." He started to walk away then half-turned. "I _mean_ it, Padfoot. Make _sure_ she stays safe. I won't have the Order using her as bait, no matter what the circumstances. If I had _my_ way, I'd be kidnapping her and spiriting her away someplace safe until this whole thing blows over."

Black laughed. "Oh that would go over _real_ well. I suppose you think your flower would just sit down quietly and _let _you?"

James grinned broadly, his eyes dancing mischeviously. "No, I _don't_. But I rather think that wrestling around with her would be well worth the hexes."

Black laughed again. "You are _seriously_ fucked up, mate."

"Only when it comes to her."

Lily watched them go, pondering what she'd just heard. None of their conversation made a bit of sense. Why would she need protecting, if it was in fact her that they were talking about? _Right, _her mind whispered, _who else would Potter fancy himself in love with? _If it was some other girl, he certainly had a funny way of showing it. The way Black had been talking was even more perplexing. It almost sounded as if they were working for Dumbledore. But that was ridiculous. They were just children, mere boys! There was no way Dumbledore would put students in danger, would he? No, of course he wouldn't. So what could it _mean? _And what was the mysterious 'Order' James kept mentioning?

And then there was the issue of the invisibility cloak. It should have concerned her, Potter having the ability to move about undected. But somehow, the idea of James having an invisibility cloak didn't disturb her _half_ as much as the idea of Sirius Black having access to one through James. Potter was many things, but a voyeur wasn't one of them. For some strange reason, Lily was sure that he wouldn't take anything from her she didn't give freely--and that included watching her shower or dress without her knowledge. He just wasn't that sort of bloke. _Black_ on the other hand...Lily shuddered. Black was a pig.

She peered out into the hallway. The coast seemed clear. She could probably safely make her way to the Head's Dorm without fear of detection. It was imperative to beat Potter back. Somehow she had the feeling that having him aware of what she'd overheard would be disasterous.


	5. Chapter 5

Lily flipped the page of her Potions text and sighed. She knew that studying was a lost cause when even _Potions _failed to capture her interest. She sighed again and tossed the text onto the table. It was time to give up, before Pince forcibly evicted her from the library. Her sense of duty, of responsibility, urged her to study during her free period, but every other inclination made it impossible. She simply couldn't get Paolo out of her mind. What was it about him that was so intriguing? Why did every part of her, the most intimate parts of her, tingle at the mere thought of him?

"What the ruddy hell is wrong with you?"

The voice was so sudden, the topic so random, that Lily nearly fell from her chair in surprise. When she recovered enough to look up, she found Ophelia standing over her, glaring, her arms crossed.

"Huh?" She managed, staring at her friend with no little confusion.

Meredith rushed up behind her sister, puffing with exertion.

"Just calm down, Ophelia! It's Lily's choice. You have no right to tell her what to do!"

"Shut it, Meredith. You know I only want what's best for Lily. And that happens to be--"

Meredith rolled her eyes. "We know, we know. You think James is the perfect bloke for Lily. But she doesn't happen to agree. So just leave it alone!"

Lily stood. "Would one of you mind telling me what's going on?"

Ophelia tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and turned her attention back to Lily.

"Don't act all innocent, Lily. Snape's told the entire school." Ophelia paused. "And frankly, I don't get it. Mind telling me why you're still willing to date Paolo after he lied to you, and you won't even give James a _chance_ when he's been nothing but wonderful to you?"

Lily decided then and there that murder was far too good for Snape. He deserved torture. She made a mental note not to interfere the next time Potter or Black used him for sport. She might even _join_ them. What happened between her and Paolo was private. It was no one's business but theirs. Why would Snape... It came to her in a flash. Snape knew how Potter felt about her; it was no secret, everyone knew. This was Snape's way of exacting revenge on James. Little did Snape know that, courtsey of his invisbility cloak, Potter was privy to the entire exchange.

"Well?" Ophelia prompted, raising a brow.

Lily sighed. "I...don't really know. I guess...Paolo's...not like other blokes our age. He's sauve, sophisticated..."

"Not to mention drop-dead gorgeous." Interjected Meredith.

"There is that..." admitted Lily. "I wish I had a straight answer to give. But I can't help how I feel, Ophelia, and I'd be lying if I denied the fact that I fancy Paolo a great deal."

_I can't help how I feel. _Where had she heard that line before? It sounded heart-breakingly familiar...oh. Right. Potter. He'd said it when...Lily had the grace to blush.

"I just don't understand!" Ophelia was clearly frustrated. "Why can you give Paolo a second chance and refuse to give James a chance at _all_? It's not like you to be so...illogical, Lily!"

"Since when is love logical, Ophelia?" Lily replied. "Look. I just don't...feel anything for Potter. And I can't force what isn't there. No matter how much anyone wishes for it, there will never be anything between us. Why can't _you_ and _Potter _just accept that?"

Ophelia's jaw dropped and stared blankly, uncomprehendingly at Lily. "You're a bigger fool than I thought possible, Lily Evans, if you're willing to throw away a stand-up bloke like James Potter for an absolute git like Paolo Giovanni. But if you're bound and determined, then there's nothing I can do. I wash my hands of you. You won't hear me mention it again."

Ophelia pivoted on her heel and stormed off. Meredith watched her go then turned to Lily. "It'll be alright, Lily. Don't worry about Ophelia. She's hocked off now, but she'll come around. Eventually. She just...has these silly romantic notions in her head. About you and Potter. And Fate." Meredith paused. "You know she has the Sight. A real Divination whiz. She thinks the entire wizarding world is doomed if you don't fall madly in love with Potter. Daft, I know, but there's no reasoning with her when she gets these ideas in her head. And don't think she's given up, no matter what she says."

Lily sighed. "Did she tell you what she thinks she Saw?"

Meredith shrugged. "Yeah. But it made no sense to me. When she gets going on that rubbish...well, you know."

Lily did know. She nodded. "So you don't believe her?"

Meredith sighed. "I believe that she thinks she Saw _something_ and her interpretation of it has convinced her that the world ends if you don't marry Potter. But as far as it goes...no, I don't believe that Divination is anything more than hocus-pocus and guess-work."

"Of course you're right." Lily agreed, whole-heartedly. "Divination is a complete load."

But Lily felt _something, _an ominous sense of foreboding that she simply couldn't shake. A shiver traveled down her spine, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake. _Fate_...


	6. Chapter 6

The obstinate curl simply wouldn't stay. It flopped down resolutely over her forehead no matter what she tried. Damn, damn, _damn!_ Two hours. Two ruddy hours she'd attempted to get her stubborn hair to stay in place, and _nothing_ worked! She simply didn't have a _knack_ for Charms. _Ophelia_ did. And James. But it wasn't as if she could ask either one of them for assistance, not considering the circumstances. She sighed deeply. There were some things even the best potions couldn't accomplish and restraining that wayward curl was one of them. It was time to give up before she went insane. Giving her hair a final pat she turned away from the mirror to find James standing in the doorway to the loo, leaning casually against the frame.

"How long have you been there?" She wondered, uncertain if she should be annoyed with him or not.

"A while." He admitted, vaguely, his eyes fixed on her face. "You look fantastic." He added after a brief pause, his tone sad, _wistful. _He dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Thanks." Lily replied, feeling more than slightly guilty. It was ridiculous. She had no call to feel guilt for going out with Paolo. She was a free woman. She had every right. It wasn't as though James had any claim on her. So why did she feel so awful about it?

She realized suddenly that he was watching her again.

"I love your hair." He murmured, pushing himself away from the doorframe and stepping foreward to close the distance between them. Lily resisted the nearly overwhelming desire to step backward, to retreat. It was James for Merlin's sake! He wasn't going to _hurt _her. She willed her wildly thumping heart to take a more reasonable pace.

She swallowed. He was still watching her, silently _watching _her, his hazel eyes giving no indication of what he intended by standing so near. She could feel his breath lightly fanning her cheek. His hand twitched then moved, reaching out suddenly towards her cheek and Lily knew with pulse pounding certainly what he was going to do.

"Don't you dare, Potter! It took me three hours to get my hair in place. If you touch it, I'll...I'll _kill_ you!"

He smiled a bit, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's James." He corrected gently. "And it took you_ two _hours. I was watching."

Now that was a bit creepy. He'd watched her the whole time? The _whole_ time?

"Either way," She huffed a bit indignantly. "I'll hex you if you mess it up."

He shrugged, an awkward gesture with his hand still hovering above her shoulder. "Then I'm afraid I have a bit of a problem." He replied, sounding nervous and rather breathless. "Because you'll kill me if I touch it, but I'll die if I don't." Before she could respond to his sally, his hand brushed lightly against her cheek and tangled through the careless tumble of curls she'd worked so hard to create.

"So soft..." His voice was low, husky in a way that sent ripples up and down her spine. His eyes were fixed on her lips and Lily thought, for a fraction of a second, that he intended to kiss her. But he didn't. Instead, he dropped his hand to his side and stared at her with wide, mournful eyes.

"You can hex me now."

Well just _perfect._ How the ruddy hell could she hex him when he was _looking _at her like _that_? It would be like drownding a kitten or strangling a puppy--either way she'd didn't have the stomach for it.

"You're lucky, Potter." She grumbled, brushing past him on her way out.

"It's _James_." He corrected again. "And Lily?"

"Yes?" She turned back, her brow arching slightly at his audacity, especially considering she'd already let him off scot-free.

"He'd be a damn fool not to fall in love with you."

* * *

_A/N: Yes, yes, it's short. But short on purpose._


	7. Chapter 7

"You seem distracted."

Lily jumped slightly and looked away from the moonlit surface of the lake, feeling more than a bit embarassed. She was being a lousy date, and she knew it, but she couldn't get the heart-broken expression on Potter's face as she left out of her mind. Damn him for making her feel guilty! If he'd just _give up--_focus his attentions on a willing recipient--they could _both_ be happy. Instead, here she was, on a date with a handsome, brilliant, sophisticated man--the ideal embodiment of all her girlish fantasies--and all she could think about was a certain pair of hazel puppy-dog eyes.

"I'm sorry." She muttered, turning her attention--her full attention--back to Paolo.

"Am I very bad company then?" He asked, adjusting his grip on her hand and interlacing his fingers with hers.

"Not at all!" She protested quickly, willing the blush that heated her cheeks at his nearness to cool. "I was just...thinking." About Potter.

"A galleon for your thoughts?" he persisted, tossing his head to shake back his hair.

She smiled. "So much? I assure you, my thoughts aren't worth a fraction of that."

"Let me be the judge of that. After all, love, I _am_ the one who's paying." He flashed her a charming smile--all teeth and dimples--that banished all thoughts not directly related to him from her mind. Potter _who?_

"I could hardly allow you to waste your money." She replied, realizing that there was _no way_ she could tell him the truth without completely spoiling the mood.

But he didn't seem bothered at all by her evasive reply. He was smirking slightly, as if he were privy to a secret he didn't intend to share with her. "To the contrary, Lily, there is nothing about you that any man would consider a waste."

And then his lips were on hers, crushing her mouth--raw and torrid.

It was not at all what she'd been expecting. Not even close. They were only a few hours in to their very first date. One simply did not kiss that way on a first date. Or a second date. Or even a third date. But she wanted it, wanted to kiss him and was utterly incapable of drumming up the willpower to make even a token protest. Her pulse raced with the impropriety of allowing him to have his way--to kiss and touch her so--when they were barely aquainted. His tongue slid between her unresisting lips, claiming her mouth forcefully, possesively. He pulled her closer, his hand brazenly roving from her waist to her bum, cupping it. It was when she felt his obvious arrousal grinding into her hip that she realized how _wrong_ this was. Just what kind of girl did he think she was? He couldn't possibly think...but it was obvious that he _did_. His hands were clutching, _pulling_ at her blouse with the clear intent of removing it.

It was _enough_. Her hands followed her thought and she pushed him off of her with a strength she wasn't even aware she possessed. He staggered backward, surprise and anger jocking for dominant position accross his features.

She glared at him, eyes blazing and hands on her hips. "What the _ruddy hell_ do you think you're doing? What kind of slag do you take me for?"

All trace of emotion faded from his expression, rendering his thoughts unreadable. He held up a hand as if in supplication. "Apologies." He said rather coldly. "I thought--"

"Well, you thought _wrong!_" She cut him off, turning to flee back to the castle in humiliation.

He grabbed her arm and spun her back to face him. "Please, Lily, don't go. Let me explain." His large, cinnamon eyes were fixed on her, convincing her to hear him out in a way that words could not have accomplished.

"So explain." She wrenched her hand free of his grasp and crossed her arms, waiting.

"I didn't mean to offend you." He tried again. "I...um...take...it that you thought...my intentions were less than honorable?"

"What was your first clue?" She wasn't about to make this easy for him.

"Let me assure you, I never intended to take advantage of you." His eyes flickered downward, towards the browning grass at their feet. "I just...lost control...a bit. You seem to have that effect on me."

"Sorry, Giovanni, not buying it." Was her icy reply. "You clearly intended to take things _significantly_ further. And I am _not_ that kind of girl. I've never _been_ that kind of girl. Ever."

His eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped. "Are you saying that you...you're a...you've never..."

"That," She replied scathingly. "is _precisely_ what I'm saying!"

He looked simultaneously shocked and pleased. "So you and Potter never..."

"_WHAT?" _Lily all but shouted. "No! We never even _dated_. Why in _Merlin's name _would you think..."

"Well for one thing, everyone knows he's obsessed with you, Lily, _and_ you happen to share a dorm. But aside from that..." He sounded somewhat bemused. "Black was hinting around about it earlier in the week."

How disgusting! Black was _so_ dead. He just officially passed Snape on her list of people to punish.

"I'll _kill_ him!" She said aloud.

But Paolo looked as if he couldn't care less what she did to Black. He was watching her with a pecularly flirtatious, low-lidded expression. "So if we shagged, I'd be your first?"

It should have been offensive, but somehow...it just wasn't. She found herself smiling back at him. "That, my dear sir, would be a pretty big _'if' _at this point, don't you think?"

He didn't look the slightest bit abashed by her statement. "You didn't answer me." He pointed out.

She rolled her eyes, but not in annoyance. "Yes. You would be. But if I allow you within ten feet of me again you'll be _lucky_."

He smirked. "Somehow I doubt that, Lily."

His confidance, his arrogant self-assurance that, inspite of her protests to the contrary, he was still going to get some, excited rather than offended her. Why was it, she wondered, that she was so powerless to resist him? She should be furious with him, but instead...

"Well, you're certainly not getting any tonight!" She huffed, trying to keep up the pretense of being upset.

"Now that, love, I can live with. Expecially knowing what I can look forward to." He winked and offered her his arm, causing her to blush furiously. She accepted, tingling all over at the renewal of his touch. His _sensual _touch. If he could awaken this depth of feeling, of desire in her, after a single kiss, what might he be capable of if she allowed him further liberties?

* * *

_A/N: OK, so now you **hate** me. I'm sure you can see now why chapter six, though short, is seperate. Please keep in mind that this story, in essence, is Sense and Sensibility--with modifications. _


	8. Chapter 8

Lily waited, back propped against the wall just outside of potions, straining her head this way and that.

Where _was_ he? If he didn't hurry, she'd be late for Transfigurations, _again._ And it wasn't as though McGonagall was the type of professor one could just slip by undetected--oh, _no._ McGonagall would be offended if she even _tried_. Now _James _could get away with that kind of cheek--the stern professor seemed to have a sweet spot for James--but if anyone else tried...Lily shuddered.

There. _Finally_. She pushed off of the wall and rushed to meet him, unable to hide her annoyance. It was sweet that he wanted to walk her to class, but if he couldn't be bothered to show up on time, he could just forget it!

"Terribly sorry, love." He said as he took her hand and twined it in his. "Binns just goes on and on. I rushed over as quickly as I could."

She softened. She could hardly blame him for _that._ "It's ok. Really. You couldn't help it."

He stroked her palm lightly, causing her skin to tingle with the painful awareness of his touch. Now matter how frequently they held hands, he never failed to illicit this response. It was _delightful. _She felt she could forgive him nearly anything, just so long as he continued to touch her so.

"We can't dawdle." She warned, hastening her steps and pulling him slightly. "I'm fresh out of excuses and McGonagall will give me detention for sure."

"Well we certainly can't have_ that_." Paolo smirked. "This weekend is a Hogsmede weekend _and_ our two month aniversary. I have something _special_ planned."

She stopped, turning to look at him. "And what, pray tell, might that something special be?"

He shook his head, his glossy hair falling with absolute perfection about his broad shoulders. "Not a chance, love, it's a _surprise_, and as such, I refuse to spoil it by giving you even the barest of hints."

"Please?" She batted her eyelashes at him, pouting slightly.

"Sorry. Immune." He said with a laugh. "And we really should hurry if you want to avoid that detention."

Lily gasped, her free hand going to her mouth. Merlin he was right! She'd never make it! She rushed forward, pulling him along by the hand and hurrying as quickly as her short legs could carry her, much to Paolo's amusement.

The final bell sounded.

"Too late, love." Paolo said regretfully.

Lily sighed and dropped his hand. "I can take it from here." She kissed him chastely on the cheek. "It wouldn't do for anyone to see us together. It would completely distroy the credibility of any excuse I manage to piece together."

He grinned wickedly and grabbed her, kissing her soundly on the mouth.

"Sorry." He said when they broke apart, not sounding the slightest bit like he meant it. "We don't do that nearly often enough."

She smiled through her blushes. "Well as it happens, I agree with you. But don't let it go to your head."

He winked. "I wouldn't dream of it. Now shoo! Before McGonagall has a conniption."

She left him with great reluctance, casting frequent glances backward towards his departing form until he was completely out of sight.

She hesitated before the door to Transfiguarations, wondering what in Merlin's name she was going to tell McGonagall this time.

"Once again a lady in distress, Lily?" James sounded faintly amused by her reluctance to open the door.

Lily turned to look at him. "Where did you come from?" She wondered, certain that the hall had been completely clear just a moment before.

"Oh, I've been here the entire time, Lily. But it seems I'm quite beneath your notice." He no longer sounded amused. And there _it _was again, that sickly-sweet feeling of guilt churning in the pit of her stomach.

"I was a bit distracted." She admitted, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

"I noticed. _Believe _me, I noticed. But then, I always notice _you_." He was studying her carefully--she knew he was--she could feel his eyes upon her.

"I'm sorry..." she murmured, meaning it in more ways than one.

He smiled again suddenly. "So what are you going to do? You've been lucky so far. But there's only so long you can ride your flawless reputation."

She sighed. "I honestly don't know! Why do you think I'm still standing here?"

He was grinning now, grinning in a charming, boyish fashion that was quite attractive. "Then follow my lead." He said, taking her by the arm and flinging open the door to the classroom.

She stiffened, both in fear and in an accute awareness of his nearness. But he seemed oblivious to it, pulling her closer against him.

"Mr. Potter. Miss Evans. How kind of you to take the time to join us." McGonagall's voice was stern, her expression settling into one of exteme annoyance.

"So sorry, Professor." James said brightly, favoring the fearsome woman with another of those adorable grins. "You know I would _never_ willingly interrupt you. I listen raptly to every word that comes from your mouth."

Lily resisted the urge to roll her eyes. How could he be any more _obvious_? There was _no way _McGonagall was going to buy that...

But the professor softened visibily, her eyes twinkling slightly in amusement. _Unbelievable!_

"So what is it this time, Mr. Potter? And make the story a good one. I fear your creativity has been slipping as of late." McGonagall's lips were curved in a barely discernable smile.

James glanced at Lily, and winked. "Stories, Professor? I'm afraid I'm fresh out of _stories. _But I do have an _excuse_, if you're willing to hear it."

McGonagall was amused. No question about it. "Let's hear it then."

"Lily and I had some head business that required our immediate attention." He said loftily. "Not very _creative_, I know, but as such, all the more likely to be _true."_

Now why didn't she think of that? It was a perfectly logical excuse and one that was bound to go unquestioned. They waited, breath held. "Take your seats." The professor said dismissively, turning her attention back to the class at large.

They didn't hestitate to comply, taking a pair of empty seats at the back of the room.

"You're brilliant." She whispered to James as she pulled out her text, parchment, and quill.

He looked over at her, his expression incandescent with delight over the compliment. "Happy...to be of assistance." He replied, his voice choked.

Lily began to scratch notes, frantically trying to catch up. She felt a tap on her arm.

"Don't worry about it."

She cast a puzzled glance over at him. His eyes were still on her, his brow raised.

"What?" She said back in a hushed tone.

"Moony," James said casually, tucking his hands behind his head. "has got us covered." He nodded with his head towards Lupin, who was busily taking meticulous notes, his parchment trailing the floor.

"You don't have to..." Why was he being so kind to her? Didn't he realize how hard he made things for her when he did wonderful things like this?

"I want to." He persisted. "Don't...don't hesitate to ask me for anything, _anytime_, Lily. If it's at all in my power, I'll assist you."

Lily had no idea how she was supposed to respond to a statement like that. It was _sweet_--heart-breakingly sweet--and _thoughtful_. It was also entirely inappropriate, considering that she was _quite _attached to Paolo. But she could scarcely repremand him for it, given that he'd just insured she'd be able to keep her date this weekend. Would he have helped her if he'd known, _really known_, what her intentions regarding said date were? She had an inkling that he would have. He was too much the Gryffindor. He always had to be the hero. He couldn't help himself. She decided at that moment he was irritatingly perfect.

"Thank you." She said finally, settling for the safest, most neutral reply.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: I feel honor-bound to warn you that some of the content contained below is graphic and violent in a manner not typically found in romance stories. It is, however, essential to the plot. I would never have included it otherwise._

* * *

_Dark. Pitch. She could make nothing out in the inky blackness of the world that surrounded her. She stepped forward, hands going out instinctively to protect her, least she stumble into something solid. The gloom wavered then parted like a misty curtain before a soft glow of blue light, akin to the nightlight she'd had in her room as a child. She rushed forward into the glow, the darkness closing and vanishing behind her as if it never was._

_A room. _

_A nursery. _

_But something was...off about this place. It was unfinshed, the edges dim and foggy like a partially formed fantasy of motherhood. _

_And it was wrong. _

_Very, very wrong. _

_She turned around, looking back in the direction she'd just come, suddenly wanting to flee back into the comfort of non-existance. But the way back was gone. Closed. Behind her stretched a bare expanse of wall and she realized what was wrong with the room. No doors. No windows. No way out. _

_Except one. _

_Foggy darkness rolled into the room, not from a window--that would have made too much sense--but from the empty, walless hole where the room just...ended. The darkness stopped at a sharp angle just shy of the crib._

_The crib._

_She was drawn to it and repulsed by it at the same time. What might it contain? What kind of creature lived in a room that looked like a child's attempt at an impressionist painting?_

_She stepped forward, her legs seeming to propel her of their own accord, and she found herself standing against the crib, her hands resting on the rail. _

_She peered in._

_A young child--an infant of that sexually indistinct age under a year-- was curled into a swadle of blankets. The child lay utterly motionless, captured not in the natural sleep of an baby healthy and whole, but the rigid, unnatural sleep of the weak and dying. _

_And she felt something, felt a connection to this unformed infant of imagination. Was it love, this emotion she felt? How could it be? How could she love someone who wasn't born, who didn't even exist?_

_But she did. _

_She cared for this child with a feral passion that defied rationality. And the sensation of wrongness intensified. The child's sleeping form seemed to waver and she was suddenly aware of another presense in the room._

_Her eyes snapped up, called towards the unfinished darkness by an unmistakable power._

_A wolf. Keeper of dreams. Harbinger of the world unseen. Ferrier of the dead. She could have said how she knew this. She just did. _

_Blue eyes met green. The creature shook, bits of snowy fur flying as it stepped forward, stepped towards her. Towards her. Towards the child! The wolf stopped at the utmost edge of the darkness, ears back and teeth bared in a fearsome snarl._

_And suddenly she was frantic. Desperate. Afraid._

_She threw herself over the child, shielding the helpless infant with her body, her eyes squeezing shut as she waited for the creature to attack. _

_She awoke._

_Blue eyes met green. The creature shook, bits of snowy fur flying as it stepped forward, towards her. Towards her. Towards the child! The wolf stopped at the utmost edge of the darkness, ears back and teeth bared in a fearsome snarl._

_And suddenly she was frantic. Desperate. Afraid._

_She threw herself over the child, shielding the helpless infant with her body, her eyes squeezing shut as she waited for the creature to attack. _

_She awoke._

_Blue eyes met green. The creature shook, bits of snowy fur flying as it stepped forward, towards her. Towards her. Towards the child! The wolf stopped at the utmost edge of the darkness, ears back and teeth bared in a fearsome snarl._

_And suddenly she was frantic. Desperate. Afraid._

_She threw herself over the child, shielding the helpless infant with her body, her eyes squeezing shut as she waited for the creature to attack. _

_And she AWOKE._

_A wolf. Keeper of dreams. Harbinger of the world unseen. Ferrier of the dead. She could have said how she knew this. She just did. _

_Blue eyes met green. The creature shook, bits of snowy fur flying as it stepped forward, towards her. Towards her. Towards the child! The wolf stopped at the utmost edge of the darkness, ears back and teeth bared in a fearsome snarl._

_And suddenly...she wasn't afraid._

_Because she knew. _

_It meant no harm. _

_It was the messenger._

_She stepped away from the child that might never be, walking boldly towards the predator, ignoring every rational instinct. _

_Because this wasn't rational._

_Her toes brushed the line of darkness as she extended her hand. The jaws opened as the creature lunged forward, lightening quick, sinking it's massive fangs into the soft flesh of her hand, pulling her forward into the darkness._

_Nothingness and pain. Searing, agonizing pain. A world of darkness and pain. _

_She fell._

_And fell._

_And FELL._

_Her vision cleared._

_She stood in a ruin, the ruinous remains of an ancient catacombs, lit only by the firey persistance of a handful of determined torches scattered sporadically along the stone walls._

_It was a tomb._

_A horrible, horrible tomb._

_A tomb full of corpes, of bodies, lying piled in irreverent heaps, like so much garbage. Twisted mounds of tortured human flesh that used to be people. Living, breathing people. People who'd been flayed open like fish, organs visible and sagging, hanging from ragged wounds. People who were jawless, limbless, or headless. People bloated and swollen as the gases of decay expanded their flesh to unnatural proportions. _

_People. _

_Her shaking hands flew upward involentarily, in a vain attempt shield her face from the horror and the stench. She retched slightly, and unproductively--a dry heave._

_And then something moved. A corpse twitched, not the twitching spasm of those newly dead, but a movement. A sentient movement. And then it staggered, rising upward on stiff limbs, coming towards her. Towards her. And then another rose. And another. And another. _

_Coming at her. _

_Inferi. _

_Coming at her. _

_She was surrounded. Trapped without hope of escape. She would die. _

_A heavy pressure filled her hands. She looked downward. In her hands lay a sword--a ruby encrusted sword--bearing the unmistakable mark of Gryffindor. _

_Magic._

_And she knew what she had to do. Or rather, the sword knew, for she was no battle-hardened vetern of combat. She was a girl. A mere slip of a girl. _

_But the sword flew with deadly precision, possessing her movements and severing heads and limbs from her attackers. Sand and grave dust scattered the stones beneath her feet, the white issue from the wounds of her fallen foes. _

_And she stopped. Because they were done. Defeated. Returned to sleep._

_Someone laughed. Cackled._

_She whirled around, sword held high, clasped so tightly her knuckles turned white._

_"Who's there?" Her voice hollow as it echoed back to her._

_He stepped forward from the shadows, an man hunched and crippled with extreme age. He hobbled towards her, bony fingers clasped together, his head topped with a lank mop of greasy, grey hair._

_"So you're here, eh? Eh?" it was a voice gravelly with disuse._

_"Who are you?" She demanded, keeping the sword pointed at him. "What are you?"_

_"Many things, many faces. I am called the sightless eye. Holder of the veil. The time-keeper. Knower of that which is and was, and of ALL things that yet may be." He looked up at her, his eyes the same vivid blue as the wolf's. _

_"What do you want from me?" Her bravery was wavering. She was Gryffindor, but only just, for there was Ravenclaw in her too._

_"Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. The choice is yours. But the time for choosing is nearly past. Someone may make it for you." He limped forward, pulling a thin wand of oak from his tattered cloak--a piece of wood as knarled and ancient as he appeared to be._

_He brandished it towards to fallen Inferi and the piles of sand and dust. _

_"Blood!" He hissed. "Blood shows us for what we are."_

_And the sand melted, darkened into the gelatinous crimson of coagulated blood. It oozed, trickled across the rock, pooling in the dead center of the room and forming a number. _

_14._

_The wizened little man laughed again, eerily, and whipped around to face her with more agility than should have been possible for one so ravaged by age._

_"It's done." He chortled._

_He held a sword. Her sword. _

_She was helpless. _

_Weaponless._

_He charged her, tip down. It penetrated her unprotected flesh with ease, running her through, stopping her heart. She died._

* * *

Lily sat up straight in her bed, screaming. 


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Consider this chapter a reward for enduring the weirdness of the preceding one._

* * *

Lily sat straight up in her bed, screaming, and unable to stop. She just kept _screaming._ She wished desperately for...well...her Mum. But her Mum was dead and gone. Lily was alone. So she screamed. She needed...someone to hold her. To tell her it would be ok. 

"Lily! Lily what's _wrong?_ Are you hurt?" A worried voice penetrated her terror, a warm, masculine hand gently touching her arm.

James. Wonderful, _wonderful_ James!

She didn't hesitate, she threw her arms around his neck, burying her face into the bare muscles of his chest. He sat rigid against her for only a moment before his arms settled lightly around her waist, pulling her closer into a comforting embrace. She promptly burst into tears, weeping in sheer relief that she was no longer _alone_.

"What's wrong, Lily?" She felt his chin lightly brush the top of her head, her hair slightly muffling his words. "Tell me."

She wished she could stop shaking enough to properly answer him.

"Just...hold me." She managed through her tears. "Please?"

"Of course."

And he did. He held her until her tears stopped and the shaking ebbed away. He held her long after they should have pulled away. But it felt_ nice _and his presence was so comforting, that Lily hesitated end it. She shifted slightly, her cheek brushing against his skin. His pulse quickened, his heart pounding loudly in her ears. She really was taking advantage. She needed to stop this. He was bound to get _ideas_. How could he not? He was in her bedroom--on her bed--with her barely clad form clinging tightly to him. He'd have to be a saint not to be having at least a _few _impure thoughts. She needed to pull away. It was wrong to give him the impression that something could happen between them.

She tried to pull away. He resisted, pressing closer to her.

"It's ok now, James." She said, her voice sounding more certain than she felt. "I'm fine. I'd hate to take advantage of you."

He chuckled, a deep husky sound that caressed her spine. "This may come as a shock to you, Lily, but I'm certainly not without ulterior motive here." He paused. "You don't think I'd do this for just anyone do you?"

"Yes." She replied quickly. "You're too nice a bloke not to help someone in need."

He sighed a bit. "Sadly, you're right. I am too nice a bloke. Which is why I'll always finish last with you, isn't it?"

He didn't seem to expect an answer, so Lily remained silent.

"But I can assure you, I wouldn't be enjoying it nearly as much if it were anyone else." He added after a moment. She smiled inspite of herself.

"Cute, James. Really cute. You are in desperate need of better material." She struggled against him. "Now let me up."

He sighed again. "Do I really have to? Can't we just stay like this?"

But he let her go and she made good her escape, pushing away and scooting back on the feather matress so that a decent amount of space separated them. It was at that point that Lily was in a position to see what he was wearing--_not much_. Nothing, in fact, but a pair of boxer shorts. She blushed at the impropriety of having _been all over him _clad in her skimpy nightdress while he was wearing--for all effects and purposes--nothing more than underwear.

"Did I wake you?"

It was a silly question, but she had to say _something._

He seemed rather amused. "No. I...uh...just got in. I was in the process of undressing, actually."

"You just got in?" Her voice took on the scolding tones she typically used when dealing with James or any of the Marauders. "But it must be two am! And you're the _Head Boy_!"

He grinned at her sheepishly. "It's closer to three." He paused. "Are you really yelling at me after I just came to your rescue and let you sob all over me?"

She blushed again. "When you put it that way, no. I guess not."

"I was teasing, Lily. You wouldn't be...well..._Lily,_ if you didn't yell at me." He winked at her. "It's kind of what we do."

She punched his arm lightly. "You're awful!"

He smiled again. "I know." He paused and looked at her carefully. "Are you sure you're ok?"

She nodded. "I'm fine now. Thanks to you."

His hazel eyes deepened into darkness. "Do you mind if I ask you what happened? When I heard you scream..."

And suddenly she felt completely ridiculous. She was almost eighteen, certainly an adult by wizarding standards, and nearly one by Muggle standards as well. She was simply too old for night terrors over a silly dream.

She studied the backs of her hands. "I...had a nightmare..." She mumbled, waiting for him to make fun.

She felt his hand on her shoulder. "Must have been one ruddy awful dream to make you scream like that."

She looked up at him, expecting to find amusement in his eyes. What she found instead was concern, concern mixed with some other emotion she couldn't identify. "It was."

"Do want me to stay?" His voice sounded choked. "I'll stay with you the rest of the night. You know. If you want." He ran a hand through his hair.

She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Now who's dreaming, James?"

He smiled back. "I didn't mean in bed with you. Though if you insisted, I certainly wouldn't object. What I meant was, I'll sit in that chair over there." He gestured towards the arm chair next to her bed. "Until you fall asleep again."

Yes, he was _definitely_ irritatingly perfect. She shook her head in negation. "I don't think Paolo would much care for that."

His expression darkened so quickly it was frightening. "Your _charming_ boyfriend. Right. Of _course._" He stood up. "I should go then."

She felt terrible. She'd hurt him after he'd been so _nice_ to her.

"James wait." She jumped up, following after him.

He turned to look at her, his expression unreadable.

"Thank you."

And once again she found herself throwing her arms about his neck, this time for a hug. He didn't hesitate this time. He pulled her roughly against him, clinging to her with fierceness that took her breath away. Pressed against him as she was, she could feel his arrousal. Heat rushed unbidden into cheeks as she was unpleasantly reminded that he was a _man_, a man who _desired_ her.

He let go as quickly as he'd grabbed her and turned away without a word. But Lily didn't miss the pained, tortured expression on his face as he left.


	11. Chapter 11

Lily's heart pounded furiously, her nerves getting the better of her. It was ridiculous, absolutely _ridiculous_ to feel this way. After all, they'd known each other for _ages. _Ophelia was one of her closest friends. But she was nervous all the same. She cracked the door open, peering in.

"You might as well come in, Lily." Ophelia called, her voice sounding strained.

Lily blushed at being caught peeking and swung the door wide. She willed herself to act normally as she walked in.

Ophelia sighed. "Unless you're here to tell me that you've _finally_ come to your senses, dumped Giovanni, and intend to give James the chance he deserves, then I don't think we have anything to say to each other."

Lily looked down, suddenly deciding that the floor was _extremely_ interesting.

"Look Ophelia, I didn't come to have another row. I came...because I need your help."

Ophelia raised a brow. "Sit down." Her tone still wasn't friendly, but it was curious. A good sign. Lily oblidged her, settling down on the edge of the bed. "Spill." Ophelia demanded.

Lily fidgeted. "I've been having these...dreams. Weird dreams. And...I think they might..."

She trailed off, embarassed to even suggest it.

Ophelia smirked. "I thought Divination was a 'complete load'."

Lily colored again. "I...may have been wrong." She mumbled.

"Sorry? Couldn't hear you. What was that?" Ophelia was clearly enjoying this.

"Are you really going to make me repeat that?" Lily grumbled crossly.

"Yes." Ophelia smirked again.

"I may have been wrong." Lily repeated, carefully anunciating each syllable. "These dreams are...frightening. Disturbing even. And I'm worried." Lily confessed. "I was hoping that you could...make them go away."

Ophelia was already rummaging under her bed, pulling out stacks of books. She sorted through the pile and pulled one "The Collective Unconcious" off the stack, flipped it open to the index, unfurled a piece of blank parchment, and dipped her quill.

"Go ahead." She said, flopping back onto a stack of pillows, her quill ready.

After a moments hesitation and a deep shuddering breath, Lily let it all out, every gruesome detail. Ophelia's quill scratched furiously as she took notes, her brow furrowing in concentration.

"So that's it." Lily said, relieved that it was over. Repeating it was _nearly _as bad as being there, trapped again in that surreal world.

Ophelia began searching the text, frequently consulting her notes and ignoring Lily entirely. She paused suddenly, looking from her notes to the text and back again. The color drained slowly from her face. Her head snapped up and she stared at Lily with wide, terrified eyes.

"I don't know what the _fuck _you're planning on doing, Lily, but you ruddy well _better not_!" Ophelia's voice was ragged, horrified.

Lily flinched. "What...?" Was all that managed to come out.

Ophelia was still staring at her, not blinking. "It was no dream, Lily. It was a _vision_."

"A vision?"

"Yes. You know. A glimpse into the future." Here Ophelia hesitated. "But something is wrong."

Lily sighed. "Clearly. Or I wouldn't even be here."

"Lily." Ophelia was obviously concerned. "I know that Meredith told you about...my visions."

Lily nodded, trying to reserve judgement.

"So you know the reason I want you to give James a chance." She continued.

"Meredith was...fuzzy on the details." Lily admitted.

Ophelia sighed. "Look Lily, this dream is a warning. A clear warning. Normally these things aren't so..._obvious_." She hesitated and looked at Lily again. "Whatever it is that you're intending to do, whatever you have planned...well...at the risk of sounding trite and cliched...will have _dire_ consequences. And not just for you."

Lily's brow furrowed. "It didn't seem very clear to me..."

Ophelia sighed again. "I guess it wouldn't to someone so blind that she won't even give a stand-up bloke like James a chance..."

Now it was Lily's turn to sigh. "We're not going to do this again, are we? I know that James is a nice bloke...but I love Paolo. It's as simple as that. I can't help who I love, Ophelia."

"Just..._don't do it_!" Ophelia cried out suddenly. "If you do it, you'll ruin everything! You'll _kill _him, Lily! Can't you see that?"

Lily flushed, finally catching a glimmering of Ophelia's meaning. "I...the last thing I want to do is hurt James. But what happens between Paolo and I..."

"Not James! Though it will kill _him, _too." Interrupted Ophelia, with more distress than before. "The baby!"

Lily's jaw dropped. "Baby? Ophelia what in _Merlin's name_--"

"The child! My Vision. If you...do this with Paolo...you'll kill the _baby_! And it'll all your fault when You-know-Who wins!" Ophelia was frantic now, her hands gripping Lily's shoulders violently.

"You're not making any sense, Ophelia! And you're _hurting_ me." Lily was starting to feel that she'd made a horrible mistake in confiding in Ophelia.

"Can't you see that he's weakening? Nothing is certain now, Lily, _nothing! _And the path you're on...it could ruin _everything!" _Ophelia was shaking her now, roughly.

"Could?" Lily managed, pulling back and trying to remove herself from Ophelia's grasp.

"It's not worth the risk, Lily. This..._thing_...you're planning with Giovanni...it could..." But Ophelia trailed off.

"What could it do, Ophelia? Explain it to me or at least _try. _Because frankly, you're scaring me." Lily was trying to be patient, she _really_ was.

"I'm not sure." Ophelia confessed. "The interpretation isn't clear. He...he might give up on you. You might die. But either way...the child..." She was staring off into space now as if in a trance, her eyes unfocused.

"Ophelia?" It was creepy if nothing else.

"Fourteen..." She murmered. "Blood spilled..."

A shiver trailed Lily's spine. "Ophelia?"

Ophelia shook her head suddenly. "It was weird. I thought it was coming to me for a moment there..." She looked at Lily again. "Just promise me you'll be careful, Lily. Can you at least do that much?"

Lily nodded. "I promise."


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: The chapter below contains material of a sexual nature that some people may find disturbing. Obviously nothing too graphic, but...seems only fair to warn._

* * *

"Do you like it?" Paolo whispered into her ear, his lips brushing her lobe. 

"It...it's beautiful!" She breathed.

And it was. Beautiful. Simulataneously beautiful and frightening because of what it meant for their relationship. The next step. It was clear that Paolo truely cared for her--loved her, her mind insisted--because he'd gone all out to ensure that it was special for her. Floating candles, rose petals, what more could a girl ask for? _Marriage, _whispered a traitorous voice inside her head. She squealched the dissenting thought ruthlessly. Paolo loved her. She loved him. There was nothing wrong with what they were about to do. So why did she feel so...odd? Why did this feel...wrong? Nerves. Had to be. She'd never done this before. Of _course_ she was nervous. Who wouldn't be?

"Happy anniversary." He murmured, spinning her around to face him.

Her pulse raced with the certainty of what he was about to do. He didn't disapoint, his mouth was on hers before she could draw breath, crushing her lips in a desperately passionate kiss. He wasted no time, his left hand sliding from her waist to her breast, crushing it. It wasn't as if he'd never touched her that way before--he'd done so dozens of times--but never so roughly, with such clear intent. She gasped involentarily, as much in surprise as in pleasure. He thrust his tongue forcibly past her partially parted lips, his tongue scraping her teeth in his eagerness.

"_Fuck_, Lily." He hissed, ripping at her blouse.

Lily stiffened. This was fast. Really fast. But he obviously wanted her. How could she ask him to control himself, to go slower? He'd already waited on her for _two months_. It would be cruel to demand restraint when he knew what was coming. He was only a man after all. She should feel flattered that he was so frantic for her.

Her blouse was off in a heart-beat, tossed to the floor with a careless contempt. Paolo didn't even pause, his hand moving instantly to the clasp of her bra and unfastening it faster than Lily herself could.

And then the bra was off, joining her blouse in a heap.

He pulled back slightly, this time pausing to look at her, to stare at her bare breasts.

"_Fuck_." He said again, his hands moving to brush her lightly, finally showing a little of the tenderness she'd hoped for.

She groaned slightly, feeling the beginnings of arrousal stirring between her legs. The gentleness didn't last long. Encouraged, she presumed, by her low moan, he increased the pressure, violently crushing her tender flesh, his kisses bruising her lips.

Something firm and soft brushed the backs of her legs. The bed. How had they...? But she didn't have time to contemplate it, for he was pressing down on her, shoving her backward and onto the mattress, crushing her small frame under the weight of his much larger one. One hand tangled into her hair angling her mouth for deeper contact while the other tugged at her skirt, sliding it down till it caught against her hips. He pulled harder. The skirt was stuck. He peeled his lips from hers with a frustrated groan.

"_Up." _He demanded in a ragged whisper.

She complied, tilting her hips. He tore the skirt from her roughly, his fingers scraping--scratching--her thighs. She whimpered a bit at the sting, which he either ignored or failed to hear in his arroused state. He seemed so focused, already unbuttoning and discarding his shirt and trousers.

This wasn't what she'd expected at all. Where was all the tenderness, the _romance_? It was almost frightening the way he clutched at her--_groped_ her. A memory flashed to the forefront of her mind. Of James and the expression on his face after he'd comforted her earlier in the week. Why wasn't Paolo looking at her--holding her--like that? Why was he being so rough? She wanted him to stop. But how could she possibly tell him that? She didn't want to hurt him, she loved him. She was naked. He was nearly so. What man would be able to stop at this point? It was too late. Far too late.

Finished divesting them of their clothes, Paolo flopped onto the bed next to her, pulling her atop him. She felt the length of his errection twitch in eagerness beneath her as her most intimate parts of her came into contact with his. She couldn't look at it. She was afraid to. She felt so exposed--trashy--not beautiful or special at all. She felt like a cheap slag. At least she could breathe. Her lips parted with the intent of sharing with him some of what she was feeling, but his hands were atop her head, _pushing_ at her, shoving her down his body.

What was he...? Oh. _Oh!_ It was suddenly very _obvious_ what he wanted. But she had no idea how to...do _that._ She never even seen a man's...

And then suddenly that was no longer true.

Turgid flesh pressed against her unwilling lips, shoving past them and into her mouth. It was worse than she could have imagined. She gagged slightly, wishing frantically to be somewhere, _anywhere _else. But he was thrusting and groaning, clearly unphased by her lack of enthusasim. With a final thrust, he pulled out, tugging her upward violently and rolling so that she was beneath him. Now was the time to tell him, to _beg_ him to stop before it was...

Too late.

The pain came in blinding flash--searing and ripping. She cried out, writhing in it. Why wouldn't he stop? Couldn't he see he was _hurting_ her? She choked back a sob, trying to force her eyes open so that she could see him.

There.

His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open. He was clearly enjoying himself. This should have pleased her. But it didn't. Because she was _hurting_. She wanted this to be over. She wanted to hit him. To cry. Bawl her eyes out. But he was still rutting incessantly between her legs, panting and cursing.

_"Fuck!" _He cried out, shoving harder and clinging to her.

She hadn't thought it possible to be in more pain than she already was, but his final thrust caught and tore at something within her. She cried out as well, but in _agony_, which he mistook for appreciation at his skills, for he smirked a bit. He rolled off of her, finally opening his eyes.

"We'd better get back." He said--rather coldly to Lily's way of thinking--rising from the bed and tugging on his trousers.

She didn't move. She couldn't. _She hurt._ A tear worked it's way down her cheek. It wasn't supposed to be this way...

"What are you waiting for?" He demanded, sounding a bit annoyed. He tossed her shirt at her. "We have to get back before they miss us. We've been gone too long as it is."

He was, of course, right. He wasn't trying to be insensitive, she reasoned. He was trying to protect her, to protect _them._ She couldn't fault him for it. She sat up and winced, pulling her blouse on and fastening the buttons with shaky hands. Her skirt hit her in the face.

"Hurry!" He urged, apparently unaware of how callous he was being.

She swung her rubbery legs to the edge of the bed and tried to slip her skirt on. What she managed to do was throw up. A lot. All over the floor.

"For _fuck's sake_!" He hissed, jumping back from her with a disgusted expression on his face.

"Sorry." She said weakly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand when the heaving finally subsided.

"Come on!" Was his only reply.

She tugged her shoes on and tried to rise, stumbling a bit. He sighed, grabbing her arm in a bruising grasp and dragging her to the door.

It was at that moment that Lily realized that he'd never said he loved her.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: In Paolo's defense--not that he deserves one--he did not rape Lily. At least, he wasn't aware that she wanted to stop. He's certainly guilty of being a callous, selfish bastard, but he had no idea that she was no longer consenting. She didn't tell him and made no move to stop him. Not sure it really qualifies under a legal definition of the term. Don't get me wrong. He can rot in hell. But it's only fair to point out that he's not psychic. _

* * *

It was good--in a way--that Paolo ignored her the entire way back to Hogwarts, for Lily was barely controlling her tears. Even the slightest acknowledgement from him concerning what they'd just done would have fractured her tentative hold on her emotions for certain sure. It wouldn't do to break down. Not here. Not in front of everyone. It was imperative that she wait until she'd reached the safety and privacy of her room. 

He didn't walk her to her Dorm, but then this was hardly unusual. Paolo never walked her to her Dorm. It was a source of long-standing frustration for Lily. She'd long suspected that James was a large part of the reason for Paolo's reluctance in that regard, but now she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure about anything anymore. And she was afraid, mortally afraid she'd made a horrible, irrevocable mistake. His kiss as they'd parted was cold and stiff--he'd scarely even looked at her before heading off to his own rooms. She'd watched him leave, hoping that he'd look back at her, that he'd at least call something reassuring to her over his shoulder. He did neither.

She waited until he was out of sight before limping down the long, empty corridor, giving her ample time to reflect on how utterly stupid she'd been. She honestly couldn't determine which was worse, the physical hurts she'd sustained or the crippling emotional pain she felt from the uncertainty of his feelings towards her. She wouldn't--couldn't--believe that Paolo had used her, but even Lily, as in love as she was, couldn't deny what was painfully obvious. Paolo had nowhere near the depth of feeling for her that she had for him. It was a heart-rending thought.

She paused at the portrait, trying to remember the passphrase as tears spilled unwillingly down her cheeks. Remembering at last, Lily whispered the word, stepping through as the portrait swung open, a shuddering sob escaping her throat.

James was sitting on the couch in the Common Room, a few random texts scattered about him as if he'd been studying. None of the books were actually opened. It was Saturday, Lily remembered, and James never studied. He didn't have to, he was naturally brilliant. He'd been waiting for her, she was sure of it.

His actions bore out her assumptions perfectly, for his eyes were on her before she'd taken more than a handful of steps across the room.

"Hey, Lily." He said, casually running a hand through his messy hair. "How was...?" He trailed off, his eyes narrowing as he studied her face. She stared back at him, trying--and failing--to appear as if nothing was wrong.

He was on his feet in an instant. "What's wrong?"

She opened her mouth to protest that she was fine, but a strangled sob escaped instead. He was at her side faster than Lily would have thought possible, as if he'd apparated there instead of walking.

"What's wrong?" He repeated, softer this time, concern wrinkling his brow.

She shook her head in negation, the tears coming once again. She made to flee, brushing lightly past him without a word, but he caught her arm, gently spinning her around. Unfortunately, it happened to be the same arm that Paolo had bruised in the process of dragging her from the hotel room.

She cried out, wincing against the pain.

"Did he hurt you?" James demanded, managing to sound angry and concerned at the same time.

"No..." She lied, her shaky voice betraying her.

His eyes narrowed, his hands moving to her sleeve before Lily could recover enough to protest, unbuttoning it and drawing it up.

He whistled, taking in the patchwork of bruises. His fingers lightly touched the purpled flesh and she whimpered again.

"It's nothing." She muttered, pulling her arm away.

His eyes were dark, thoughtful, as if he were struggling to come up with the right thing to say.

"You can tell me the truth, Lily." He said finally, his eyes searching hers. "You can trust me."

The tears came faster now, obscurring her vision. Would he say that if he knew what kind of girl--slag--she really was? She very much doubted it. He'd turn his back on her just as quickly as Paolo had.

"Lily..." He murmered helplessly. His hand reached out, tenderly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers caressing her cheek. "You look beautiful even when you cry."

She smiled a bit at this, for it was categorically untrue. She turned all one color--red--when she cried, like a great big hairy tomato.

"Liar." She whispered, blinking furiously.

"Never!" He protested, obviously trying to put her at ease. He paused. "Maybe a little." He admitted truthfully.

Pain stabbed at her again, causing her to hunch slightly and clutch at her stomach.

"Tell me what happened, Lily." He pleaded, watching as she gasped in agony. "Please just trust me."

But she couldn't, for when he knew the truth, he'd hate her as much as she hated herself.

"I can't!" She moaned out, pivoting away from him and fleeing up the stairs as quickly as the pain would allow. The tears were flowing freely now, and Lily made no attempt to stop them. James was right behind her--she could hear his steps chasing her up the stairs--but she couldn't face him. Making a split second decision, she flung open the door to the loo, rushing inside and slamming it behind her. She barely had time to slide the bolt home before James was knocking, calling to her from the other side.

"Lily..." Even though his voice was muffled by the wood, Lily couldn't mistake the worry in his voice for anything else. "Lily are you alright?"

He paused, obviously waiting for her response, a response she was incapable of making, having crumpled to the floor, sobbing uncontrollablly.

She was sure he heard her.

"Lily...just...just tell me that you're ok and I'll leave you alone."

He sounded somewhat frantic and she knew he was lying. She opened her mouth to reassure him with a comforting lie of her own, but all that came out was a fresh round of sobs.

He was pounding the door now. "Lily."

The pounding stopped abruptly and Lily could hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps in the hallway. For a moment she thought it might be Paolo, coming to apologize, to reassure her of his undying affection, but her hopes proved vain.

"Padfoot." James addressed the owner of the footfalls. "What the _fuck_ is going on? And you'd better have a damn good explanation as to why she's in there bawling her eyes out, or I'm going to get violent."

"Uh..." The voice was Black's and he sounded hesitant, sickened by what he was about to say. "Look, Prongs, I...don't really know how to say this."

"Hurry the fuck up, Pads. She's _upset and hurt_. I was about to break down the _fucking door_ when you showed up!"

Black sighed deeply, as if composing himself. "Prongs. Give it up, mate. It's over. You...you don't stand a fucking chance."

"Huh?"

"It's over. He..." Black stopped.

"I'm not following you, Padfoot. Start making some fucking sense or move out of the way." James was clearly annoyed.

"_He shagged her fucking brains out."_ Black burst out loudly.

How the ruddy hell could Black know that? Had Paolo told everyone? Did the entire school know? A fresh burst of humilation washed over her, stopping her tears.

"How...do you know that?" James demanded, his voice cracking a bit. "She's _crying,_ Padfoot. She was _bruised."_ He paused. "Did he force her? That_ bastard_, I'll--"

"No." Black interrupted quickly. "She didn't protest."

"How do you know?" James repeated.

"I was...there." Black sounded somewhat embarassed to be revealing this.Oh god! Lily suddenly found she was able to sob again. Black was _there?_ He'd watched? _He'd seen...everything?_ Bad enough her first time had been what it was, but to know that Black had watched...it was beyond anything she was capable of dealing with.

"You...where...there...?" James echoed dumbly. "That's..."

"_Fucking sick_." Black offered. "I know. But I didn't know what he intended at first. And I wanted to be certain that he wasn't going to hurt her. By the time I realized what was going on, it was too fucking late."

"But...it...must have been...an accident. She...obviously...didn't mean it. She's upset." James' voice was wavering as if he were on the brink of losing it.

"An accident? _A fucking accident_? Will you _listen_ to yourself, mate? What, do you suppose he slipped and _fell _into her?" He paused. "And out of her. And back into her again?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" James shouted.

"Fuck, Prongs! Just give it up." Black persisted. "She's a slag. She--"

"I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

Something crashed against the wall. The oriental vase, Lily thought dumbly, still trying to wrap her mind around the concept that Black had watched her humiliation.

"DON'T EVER, EVER TALK ABOUT HER THAT WAY." James' voice was a terrifying mixture of pain and rage.

"Look, mate," Black's voice had taken on the soft, dulcet tones of someone clearly indulging the insane. "It's not the end of the world. There are plenty of girls out there. Girls who are dying to shag you silly. Just pick one. Move on. Plow your way through half of Hogwarts. _Fucking forget her_."

"Don't you get it, Padfoot? Haven't you _fucking_ figured it out by now?" Lily's heart nearly stopped, for the raw pain evident in his voice was painful to hear. "For me there isn't anyone else. _I fucking love her_. And it doesn't matter what happens or what she does. I'll feel the same way."

"Where are you going?" Black called.

"Out." James' sounded strained, as if barely holding on. He paused. "Check on her, please. Make...sure she's ok."

"Fine." Black replied loudly. "She can throw herself off the fucking astronomy tower for all I care." He muttered under his breath.

Lily choked back another round of sobs. The last thing she wanted was for this voyeuristic bastard to hear her cry.

A knock sounded on the door. "Evans?" Black called.

"_Fuck off, Black_." She yelled back, wishing she was in the state of mind to use a wand.

He paused. "How much did you hear?"

She snorted. Apparently the _sick fuck_ had figured out that two of them had failed to set a silencing Charm before having their little conversation. She didn't dignify him with a response.

"Fuck!" He cursed, hitting the door. "You weren't supposed to hear that."

He was silent. "You're not going to do something stupid are you?" He hesitated for a moment then added. "I mean, something even more stupid?"

How could James be friends with such an unbelievable bastard?

"Go to hell."

"I'll take that as a 'no.' " He fell mercifully silent again, but Lily knew Black too well to hope that he'd stay that way.

"I'm going after James." He informed her. "And Evans? _Way to fucking go_!"

And then Lily was alone and free to cry as much as she wanted without fear of interruption.


	14. Chapter 14

"Get up." Ophelia demanded in a voice that brooked no argument

Light--blinding light--flooded the room. Lily groaned and rolled over, tugging the douvet over her head.

"Go away."

A sigh. "Lily. You've been in bed for _three days_. If you don't get up now, people are going to talk."

"So?" Lily replied, wallowing the blankets more tightly around her. Her comfort was not long lived. The cocoon of covers were ripped roughly from her fingers and pitched unceremoniously on the floor.

"This is _ridiculous_, Lily. He's not worth it."

Lily sat up, sheilded her eyes against the light and glared at Ophelia.

"Don't give me that look, Lily." Ophelia's hands were on her hips and she met Lily glare for glare.

Lily let out a long, shuddering sigh of her own. "How can I face him? How can I even..." She trailed off.

Ophelia's expression softened and she took a seat next to Lily. "Why don't you tell me what happened, Lily?"

She felt the tears rising--stinging--behind her lids once again. "I don't want to talk about it."

Ophelia patted her arm gently. "Did he dump you, Lily? Did that bastard break your heart?" Ophelia paused. Lily made no reply.

"You know," Ophelia continued, a thoughtful--hopeful expression on her face. . "I know someone who would be more than happy to help you pick up the pieces."

So she was going to start _that_ again, was she? Well Lily was in no kind of mood. And she wasn't even certain that it was _true _anymore, either. James had made no attempt to see her since..._that night._ For all she knew, he was following Black's advice and had decided to 'plow his way through half of Hogwarts.'

"He didn't dump me." Lily finally said.

"Oh." Ophelia was disapointed and it was obvious. "Then...?"

"I just...can't talk about it, Ophelia. Let's just say...we had a row. And now I don't know where things stand between us."

"Ok..." Ophelia was giving Lily a distinctly odd, side-long look.

Lily swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"There's a girl!" Ophelia said in a reassuring tone. "Don't worry about Giovanni. I'm sure it will all work out as it's _meant to._"

Lily could well guess what Ophelia meant by _that _particular statement.

"Where _exactly_ is Meredith?" Lily questioned, rubbing her temples and not trying to hide her annoyance.

"At breakfast. _I_ lost the coin toss." Ophelia sounded slightly grumpy herself.

"Lucky me." Lily muttered, gathering her little bag and heading towards the loo.

"No kidding." Ophelia returned. "I'll wait outside."

* * *

By the end of the day, Lily felt like crying herself sick again. She'd passed her classes largely in a daze, finding, for the first time in her life, that she couldn't possibly care _less _about the material. She was miserable, utterly miserable, and doing a very poor job of hiding it. Even McGonagall commented that perhaps she'd returned to classes a bit earlier than was wise, as she didn't appear to have quite recovered.

The source of her misery was simple and could be summarized in one word--men. Her agony was twofold for Paolo made no attempt to see or speak with her and neither, for that matter, did James. Paolo would scarcely have to put much effort into avoiding her--they didn't share a single class. James, on the other hand, was activley doing so, skiving off the classes they shared.

The situation with Paolo was horrible, for she could no longer make excuses. He clearly didn't care for her. He simply didn't want to be with her any longer. It was painfully obvious. What that meant, exactly, Lily was afraid to contemplate. In spite of everything, in spite of the way he'd treated her, she still loved him. She didn't want them to be over. But is seemed that she had little choice in the matter. Paolo was making the decision for her, by refusing to discuss it.

The situation with James was even worse. Even though they didn't have a relationship--weren't friends per say--she missed having him around. He'd avoided her before, of course, but this time it was different. She was afraid she'd lost...

His _respect. _

What if he never looked at her again _that way_? Would she miss it? Miss the adoration in his eyes? It wasn't that she wanted him to fancy her. She didn't. _Not at all_. But knowing that he respected her, thought highly of her, had become important to her. She wanted to be...

His _friend._

And now she was worried, worried that in spite of his protests to Black, he thought of her as some kind of slag. Well why the _hell _wouldn't he? She was one, wasn't she? Hadn't she shagged Paolo after a mere two months aquaintance? _But I loved him_, her heart whispered in her defense. _But he didn't love you_, was her mind's cynical reply.

Her hopes of meeting up with James at patrol were quickly dashed. He was conspicuously absent. Instead, Lily found herself once again in the company of Remus, who hardly even looked at her. All of the Marauders seemed determined to punish her for hurting James. Or so she presumed. It was really hard to tell with that lot.

She finished her silent patrol, parting ways with Lupin on the third floor, and made her solitary way back to her dorm. Actually, she reflected grimly, walking alone was actually preferable to walking with Remus, for she didn't feel as though she should be talking to fill the uncomfortable silence.

"Gillyflower." She commanded the portrait, which swung open, allowing her entrance. She stepped through eagerly to find...

The Common Room was empty.

Had she really expected any different? Sadly, _she had_, which made the disapointment all that more potent. Choking back a fresh round of tears--for James or Paolo she couldn't say--she rushed to her room.

Why bother staying awake? Perhaps she'd take another draught of Dreamless Sleep potion and sleep another couple of days. What did it matter? At least she'd be happy...

* * *

Lily sat straight up in bed, awakened suddenly from a deep sleep, her heart pounding. Someone was in her room. She could feel _it_. But who...? She willed her pulse to slow as she looked around.

There.

An unmistakable figure sat against the window, silhouetted in the moonlight and casting a slight shadow across her bed.

"James?" .

He looked up. "Oh." he said absently. "You're awake."

"Why...?" But Lily really didn't know what to say. Her mind was still foggy from sleep and her feelings uncertain.

He didn't seem to have heard her. "I wasn't avoiding you, you know."

This was news to her. "You weren't?"

"No. I was working on something. For Dumbledore." He was looking down, avoiding her eyes.

"I...thought that you _were_..." It was a redundant statement and a lame one at that, but she was having trouble concentrating. Why wasn't he looking at her?

"I knew you'd think that." He sighed a bit. "How are you?" He asked, finally looking up.

"Not...not very good." She admitted. Now why had she said that? She hadn't meant to tell him.

"Why did you do it?" His words were slightly slurred, choked with emotion. He's drunk, she realized with a start.

"I..."

His eyes were searching her face. "Sirius said that the bastard didn't force you." He paused. "But it doesn't make sense. Why were you crying, Lily? Tell me honestly. I...I have to know."

Could she tell him? Should she? He's drunk, she reminded herself. He'd never even remember in the morning. Perhaps she _could_ tell him. Then someone would know.

"He didn't force me." Her voice was a breathy whisper. "But...I didn't want to. Not at the end."

"That doesn't make sense." James replied, sounding genuinely confused.

"I...changed my mind." She murmured, tears pricking her eyes. "He...was rough. Hurting me. And I changed my mind."

"I knew it!" James exclaimed, sounding vindicated. "But you didn't say anything."

"No. How _could_ I? It was too late!" She wailed out, letting the tears fall.

He jumped up, walking across the room to join her on the bed. "You were allowed to change your mind, Lily. Can't you see that? You should have _said _something!" His hand was touching hers.

"It was too late." She insisted, distracted by the potent scent of Fire Whisky on his breath. How much did he drink?

"Sirius would have helped you, if you'd _said _something." He stopped, realizing what he'd just said.

"Shit." He cursed. "I...uh..."

"I already knew." So Black hadn't told him. Interesting.

"You heard us then?" He sounded worried, hesitant.

"Yes. But it doesn't matter James, because you must think I'm the worst kind of...slag." She looked down, swallowing around the lump in her throat.

"Lily..." He breathed, his hand snaking out to tilt her chin upward, forcing her to look into his eyes. "I think you're _perfect. _I always have." He leaned towards her and kissed her...

Forehead.

His lips lingered against her skin--warm and moist.

"James..." She said helplessly, her heart in her throat.

"Try and sleep, Lily." He replied, laying her gently down and pulling the covers around her.

"But..."

"Good-night, Lily."


	15. Chapter 15

Lily shifted her bag on her shoulder as she walked, trying to relieve some of the numbness caused by overloading her bag with books. Why the ruddy hell was Potions so far away from Charms? She sighed. At least things were relatively back to normal with James. In fact, in the two classes he'd actually bothered to attend, he'd flirted with her even more shamelessly than previously. Naturally, she was of mixed feelings about this.

"Evans! Just the bird I wanted to see!"

Lily looked up. The voice belonged to Black and he was heading her direction. Damn.

"Fuck off, Black."

She pivoted abruptly, turning the other direction so quickly she nearly fell. It gave Black ample time to catch up with her. She quickened her pace anyway.

"Careful now, love, or I'm going to start to believe that you don't much care for me." He said in mock hurt tone, matching her steps with ease.

She stopped walking and turned to him, brow raised. "Start to believe?"

He ignored her sally. "Walk with me, love, talk with me." He said instead, drapping an arm casually over her shoulder and steering her towards an out-of-the way corridor.

"Black?" She chirped in saccharine tones. "If you enjoying having both of your limbs firmly attached to your torso, then I strongly suggest that you remove your arm from my person."

He stopped, apparently satisfied that they were unlikely to be overheard, and turned to face her, grinning like the idiot he was. "That's the spirit, Evans! Now you're talking sense."

She rolled her eyes and shoved at his arm, which he had yet to remove. "I might be, but you certainly aren't." She paused and sighed. He was still smiling at her. "Alright Black, I'll bite. What are you about? And don't be all day about it either."

His grin deepened and he finally dropped his arm. So that was his game, Lily realized. He'd intended to hold on to her until she agreed to hear him out. Ass.

"It's come to my attention that I may have been a bit...hard on you the other night."

Lily smirked, she couldn't help it. " I'm assuming that by 'come to your attention' you mean that Potter threatened you with bodily harm if you didn't find me and make nice."

Black ran a hand through his hair, which fell back into place with annoying perfection.

"Something like that, yeah."

She arched a brow, waiting.

"Well then. To the point I suppose. I may have...misinterpreted what I saw. You know." He sounded distinctly uncomfortable.

Lily was having a hard time not enjoying it, until a thought occured to her. "So James told you, then?"

Black nodded reluctantly.

"I thought he was _drunk_!" She muttered under her breath. Not soft enough.

Black heard her and grinned. "Oh, he was. Completely pissed."

"So how did...?" Lily wondered.

Black laughed. "Oh, Evans, surely you've figured out by now that he hangs on your every word. Did you really think he'd fail to remember such important information, even if he was wasted? Not bloody likely!"

Lily glared at him. "If something is obvious to _you_, Black, with your learning disability, then rest assured it's obvious to _me._ I just can't believe he told you."

"Hey!" Black protested loudly. "I do NOT have a learning disability! I just 'fail to apply myself.' " He paused, studying her face closely. "Though it probably seemed that I did Saturday night, huh? I was a bit of a--"

"You were a complete bastard." Lily interjected with some heat.

"Well..." Black hesitated. "It wasn't anything personal, Evans."

"It wasn't? Really? Because I seem to remember you calling me a slag!"

"That was _before_. I...I...didn't _know._" He protested weakly.

"And how does that make it right? _You were there_, Black! How the fuck did you miss the part where I threw up?" Her voice had become slightly shrill and high-pitched.

"You threw up?" He said dumbly. "James didn't mention that..."

Damn! Lily thought. He didn't mention it because she didn't tell him. Brilliant!

"You were there!" She repeated, dodging the question.

"Look, Lily, I may have been there, but I sure as hell didn't want to be! I was trying to pay as little attention to what was going on as I possibly could. _Believe _me, I wasn't far from throwing up myself." He smiled a bit, his eyes taking on a mischevious glint. "Good thing he was so quick or I'd never have lasted."

"Black..." She warned, starting to feel slightly sick at the reminder.

"Obviously I missed a few things. And I'm sorry. I would have helped you if I'd known. But in my defense, I was distracted." There it was again, that grin that meant he was about to say something incredibly insensitive. "Nice rack by the way, Evans. Really. Quite stunning. Top ten, easy."

Her jaw dropped. Had he really just...? He had! That-that-

"YOU. ARE. SO. DEAD." Her wand was out in a flash, her lips parting to issue a suitably potent hex.

But Black wasn't having it. His hand shot out, catching her hand to impede her movements. She struggled vainly--the bastard was strong--reaching up with her other hand to try and free herself. He caught that one too, grinning in amusement.

"Uh-uh, Evans. Play nice. I'm trying to apologise."

Her knee came up instantly in an attempt to hit him where it would hurt him the most. He responded by shoving her backward, pinning her to the wall with his body, his knee sliding between her legs to minimize the amount of direct contact beween them. It also prevented her from playing football with his balls.

"Fuck you, Black!" She hissed. "When I get my hands on you, you'll curse the day your mother ever kissed your father!"

Black chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. "All of this violence over a simple compliment. Shocking, Evans, truely shocking!"

"It wasn't a compliment you git! You were discussing my breasts!" She retorted.

"Should I be concerned about this?"

Black's grin broadened as he turned his head towards the voice. "Hey Prongs!" He said cheerfully. "Just apologising to Evans here."

James was eying Black carefully, as if reserving judgement only because it was Black. He ran a hand through his hair as he evaluated the scene before him. They weren't doing anything indecent, but Lily was quite certain that it must look highly inappropriate from the angle at which James was standing. She blushed.

"Not really sure I much care for your method, Padfoot." His tone was distinctly warning.

Black grinned again, wisely stepping back and allowing her freedom. "I didn't say it was going _well_." He pointed out.

Lily took advantage of his distraction to shove him out of the way. Face-to-face with James, she scowled. "I can't believe that you told_..him. _Of all people! That was _personal._ Private. It was none of his business!" She paused for breath. "And you weren't even supposed to remember! You were supposed to be _drunk!"_

"I was." James insisted, reiterating Black's statement. "But how could you think for a moment that I wouldn't remember _that?_" He flashed her a charming smile. "Besides, you let me _kiss_ you. Believe me, I sobered up fast after that!"

Black raised a brow at her, an inquisitive expression on his face.

"On the forehead!" She corrected quickly.

"Still." James continued, looking distinctly pleased. "It was a kiss never-the-less, and _significantly_ further than I've gotten before."

She favored him with her most scathing look, her hands sliding to her hips. "The two of you are horrible! You _deserve_ each other!"

"What did I do?" James turned to Black, looking sincerely puzzled.

Black shrugged, "I've given up trying to communicate with her."

"Sod off, Black." She replied, shoving past James. "You can both 'throw yourselves off the astronomy tower' for all I care!"

James grabbed her arm, spinning her back around. "Lily." He pleaded. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to make fun."

She jerked her arm from his grasp. "Not now, Potter, not _now_!"

He sighed. "So I'm 'Potter' again?"

She walked away, refusing to dignify his question with a response.


	16. Chapter 16

"Hurry up, Lily!" Meredith called impatiently, allowing her still levitating trunk to fall to the floor with a thud.

"I'm trying!" Lily retorted, struggling with the stubborn clasp on her own trunk. The bloody thing just refused to stay closed. It was past time to get a new one.

There.

"Got it!" She said triumphantly, rising to her feet and brushing the dust from her knees.

"About time." Muttured Ophelia. "Mum and Dad will be here any minute!"

Lily smiled. "Thanks again for the invite." She told both Ophelia and Meredith. "If it weren't for you I'd be stuck at the Dursley's with my prat of a sister and her chump husband."

Ophelia grinned back. "Do you really think we'd do that to you? Honestly Lily, we've been trying to get you to come for ages!" She paused, giving Lily a sly look. "Besides, the Potter's live just down the way..."

Meredith nudged her sister in the side--hard.

"Ouch!" Ophelia squealed. "That hurt!"

"Well knock it off!" Meredith said crossly. "I'm sick of hearing it and I'm pretty sure Lily is too."

"Oh for Merlin's sake! I wasn't trying to...I was just saying..." Ophelia gave up, for it was fairly obvious what she was implying, protests were futile at this point.

"Sorry." Ophelia said, not sounding the slightest bit sincere.

Sudden noise caught their attention. All three girls looked down the platform, towards a certain group of boys who were standing just within earshot, talking and laughing--loudly--amongst themselves. James looked up, his eyes meeting and holding Lily's. Lily hastily averted her gaze, struggling to control the odd fluttering in the pit of her stomach.

"Bloody Hell!" cursed Lily. "I left my valaise in the dorm. I guess I'll do without..."

She stopped abruptly, for both Merdith and Ophelia focused on something behind her, not paying her the slightest bit of attention.

"What?" She asked, turning to see what had them so captivated. Had James...?

Her knees went weak, buckling beneath her as she came face-to-face with Paolo for the first time since...

The incident.

"Paolo..." She managed, her voice hollow even to her own ears.

He stepped forward hesitantly, his face wan as if something pained him. Lily was vaguely aware of the other eyes upon them, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Meredith was at least pretending not to stare, but Ophelia, James and the other Marauders, afforded them no such courtsey. She could practically feel the heat of Potter's glare as it settled on Paolo.

"Lily." He replied, her name a sweet caress from his lips. "I...want--need--to tell you how sorry I am. I didn't want things to be this way. I need you to know that. If it had been up to me..."

She froze, scarcely daring to believe what she was hearing. She didn't speak, she couldn't, for her heart had stopped mid-beat.

"I wish...things were different." He continued, sounding regretful. "You have to understand. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I wasn't supposed to..." He trailed off, the muscles of his jaw clenching as if he were struggling for composure. "Please know that...I care for you."

"You do?" Her heart had resumed it's rhythm, beating rapidly as if to make up for the lost time.

"I can't do this." He murmured under his breath. "It just isn't fair!" He took a halting step towards her then ceased.

"Don't...don't look like that, Lily." He finally said after a moment's hesitation. "If circumstances were different...if I was free to...but it doesn't matter. Just...stay away from me, Lily. For your own good. No matter what."

"But Paolo..." Her voice was wavering as she fought off tears.

"I can't torture myself any longer." He said abruptly. He reached out, taking her hand and kissing it. And then he was gone--fleeing without another word.

Lily sank onto her trunk, her legs simply lacking the strength to hold her.

"What...just happened?" wondered Meredith, staring after Giovanni.

"I think..." Ophelia began. "that he just broke up with Lily."

"He didn't..." Lily started to protest then stopped. "I think you're right." She dropped her head into her hands.

"It was odd, though." Meredith persisted. "What did he mean by 'stay away no matter what' ? It didn't make sense."

"Who knows?" Ophelia shrugged. To her credit, she didn't sound too gleeful.

"Lily?" A third voice said hesitantly.

She looked up to find James standing over her. She sighed, struggling to compose herself. "What is it, James?"

He ran his hand nervously through his hair. "I know this isn't the best time..." He paused, studying her carefully. "But everyone will be leaving for Holiday soon, and there likely won't be a better one..."

She sighed again and wiped at her eyes. He noticed, his eyes narrowing in response.

"Spit it out." She snapped, managing to keep her tears under control.

"I don't suppose it would be possible to..." He hesitated, as if fearing to continue. "To come and see you over holiday?"

He was watching her intently, as if his entire world hinged on her response. Ophelia shifted, her mouth opening, no doubt to utter some form of an affirmative. Meredith nudged her violently, glaring at her sister, who closed her mouth abruptly.

"I...I'm staying with the Donovan's." She replied, gesturing towards her friends. "So I can't really grant permission--"

This was the opening Ophelia was waiting for. "Of course you can stop by!" She interjected quickly. "Mum and Dad wouldn't mind at all!"

James nodded but he seemed a touch disapointed, in spite of the fact he'd just acheived his end.

"Brilliant." He replied, his eyes still on Lily. "I may just do that."

"That would be nice, James." Ophelia replied on Lily's behalf.

"Right." James sounded discouraged and dejected. "I'll see you lot later then."

His gaze lingered on Lily for a moment before he turned and walked off.

"See?" Ophelia squealed, unable to containt her excitement. "James adores you! He wants to see you! Forget Giovanni, Lily."

"I don't suppose we could..." Lily sounded hoarse even to her own ears.

"Yes?" Ophelia encouraged.

"Is there any way we could not talk about this right now?" She asked--begged--Ophelia before bursting into tears.

* * *

"He's not going to owl you back." Meredith said regretfully.

Lily sighed and looked down at the newly completed letter in her hands. "I guess a part of me knows that." She murmured. "But I can't help but hope..."

Meredith scooted closer to her, patting her arm in a comforting manner. "You know Lily, maybe..." She hesitated. "Maybe Ophelia is right. Maybe you should give Potter a chance."

Lily's eyes snapped up instantly, favoring Meredith with a look of absolute incredulity. "Who are you and what have you done with Meredith?" She demanded.

"Just...hear me out." Meredith continued, twirling a lock of dark hair absently. "I've been thinking...and it seems to me that he really fancies you. Why not--"

"Lily!" A matronly voice called from the hallway, interrupting whatever Meredith was about to say.

"Yes, Mrs.Donovan?" Lily called back, rising to her feet and heading to the door.

It creaked open and Mrs.Donovan peered in. Her eyes caught Lily's and she smiled. "Your boyfriend is here."

"My...boyfriend?"

She could hardly speak, hardly believe it was true. He'd come!

Mrs. Donovan smiled again. "He's waiting in the foyer. See? All of that pining was for nothing!"

Mrs. Donovan started down the stairs, Lily and Meredith close on her heels.

Lily felt that her heart would burst. He'd come! He loved her! He--

Wasn't Paolo.

James Potter stood at the foot of the stairs, his eyes glued to her, his expression anxious. Her heart fell into her shoes as she tried to control the disapointment she knew must be evident on her face at the sight of him.

But Mrs. Donovan didn't seem to notice her young guest's distress, for she was still grinning, waiting for Lily to rush into Potter's arms. She walked slowly, delaying the moment as long as she could.

James ran a hand through his hair, smiling at her hesitantly. "Hi Lily." he said softly. "Meredith."

"Hi James." Meredith replied, sounding distinctly uncomfortable.

Lily said nothing. She was still trying to reign in her crashing spirits. She couldn't blame James for not being Paolo! He had no idea that Mrs. Donovan would jump to the wrong conclusion.

"What are you waiting for, dear?" Mrs. Donovan wondered. "Don't hold back on my account! Snog him senseless!" She turned to James. "I've never seen a girl so in love. She's been pining over you since she arrived. Poor thing!"

James cast an inquisitive glance in her direction--hopeful but guarded. She'd better stop this before things got even more out of hand.

"James isn't my boyfriend, Mrs. Donovan." Lily explained, her cheeks turning pink.

Mrs. Donovan's handsome features clearly conveyed her bewilderment. "But...he said to tell you he was the bloke in love with you."

Now James was blushing a bit. "It was a joke..." He muttered.

"Didn't sound like a joke." Mrs. Donovan said, still sounding confused.

"It's...kind of a standing...thing between us." Lily attempted to explain.

"Oh." Mrs. Donovan said knowingly. "I see." She winked slowly and deliberately at Lily. "Well...I'll just leave you young people alone..."

She was smiling again. And now Lily knew where Ophelia got her annoying delusions from.

"I'll...uh...just..." Meredith stammered, obviously uncomfortable. She walked past Lily, making for the kitchens without attempting to finish her thoughts.

"Meredith..." Lily called after her. Meredith didn't even look back.

And then Lily was alone with James.

"Sorry about that." He said, the edge of his mouth quirking in a crooked grin. Lily couldn't help but think that he could have at least _pretended_ to feel ashamed of himself.

"Why do I get the feeling that you purposely misled her?" Lily replied, unable to help smiling back.

"I wouldn't--"

She fixed him with a look.

"Well...maybe I would. Did. Whatever." He paused, his smile fading. "You thought I was _him_, didn't you? On the stairs, when you looked..."

Lily felt simply awful. How horrible was she, letting him know that she felt nothing but disapointment at the sight of him? He didn't deserve it, he really didn't.

"Yes." She said bluntly. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok..." But he wasn't looking at her.

"It is nice to see you, though." She offered, hoping to make him feel a bit better.

"I had to see you." He sounded apologetic. "I missed you." He added sheepishly.

Now how was she supposed to respond to that?

He was grinning at her again, in an overtly flirtacious manner. "If you're wondering how to respond, you could start by taking Mrs. Donovan's suggestion and snogging me senseless. I wouldn't mind. Honest."

Lily couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. How could she not? "Don't make me regret leaving my wand upstairs, James!"

His eyebrows shot up. "Wandless,hmm? So if I decided to jump you and snog _you_ senseless, you wouldn't be able to stop me?"

"Try it, Potter, and see what happens."

"Don't tempt me, Lily." He replied in a tone that was deadly serious. "I don't respond well to temptation."

And Lily was no longer amused. She took a step backward. "James..." She warned.

He closed the distance between them, a purposeful expression on his face. Lily swallowed, her heart trying to beat it's way out of her rib cage. But he didn't try and kiss her, he merely grabbed her hand.

"Relax, Lily." He muttered in annoyance. "I'm not going to jump you. I can control myself when I choose."

She let out a breath she wasn't even aware she was holding.

"Look...you know how I feel about you."

She nodded. Of course she did. Hadn't he declared it loudly and repeatedly for years now?

"I..." He paused, seeming to change his mind. He tightened his grasp on her hand, his thumb lightly caressing her palm. It was a heart-breakingly tender gesture that sent delightful shivers down her spine. "Promise me that you won't go anywhere, Lily."

His eyes once again on hers--searching.

"What?"

It was the last thing she'd expected him to say. She'd anticipated something...well...romantic and inappropriate.

"Promise me that you'll stay here. It isn't safe out there, Lily, and I need to know that you're protected." His gaze drifted from her eyes to her lips.

"I...hardly think that I'll have much cause to leave." She managed, finding it distinctly hard to speak when he was looking at her like that.

"That's not a promise." He pointed out.

"I promise." She replied, licking her lips nervously.

His eyes followed the path of her tongue with rapt interest. He made a slight noise like a groan that set Lily's stomach to fluttering. He leaned inward, jerking her against him as his free hand found her waist, their bodies pressed so closely not even a puff of air separated them. She could feel his heart racing at the sheer audacity of his actions.

"I'm going to kiss you." He warned, sounding vaguely apologetic.

She swallowed. Her skin was tingling with the accute awareness of his touch, her lips aching--burning--with the sudden desire to taste him.

"Ok."

His eyes widened in surprise, but he recovered quickly, his head descending...

"Are you done yet?" Black complained, poking his head into the room.

James stopped, turning his head to glare at his mate. "Do you mind? We're kind of in the middle of something here..."

Black took in the scene before him and grinned. "Oops."

Lily flushed as red as her hair, her hands quickly pressing against James' chest--shoving him away. He released her, sighing a bit.

"Don't stop on my account." Black said quickly.

James glared again. "Too late now. You've ruined the mood." He cast a mournful look at Lily. "I don't suppose there's any chance you'll..."

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. What the ruddy hell was wrong with her? Had she really almost snogged Potter?

He sighed again. "I rather thought not."

"So we're going then?" Black looked only slightly abashed.

"Guess so." He turned back to Lily. "Don't forget. You promised."

"I won't."

Lily watched them go, feeling oddly disapointed.


	17. Chapter 17

Lily held the black envelope in trembling hands, turning it over and over--looking at it--afraid to break the seal. The golden writing, the elegant caligraphy, was_ his_, she couldn't mistake it anywhere. His style was so far removed from the usual illegible scrawl of most blokes her age that it stood out.

"Open it!" Meredith demanded impatiently, bouncing on the bed next to her.

Her fingers caressed the seal then broke it.

"I can't." Her voice wavered.

"Then don't!" Scowled Ophelia, who was pouting in a very childish manner. She sat up in her armchair. "What could he possibly have to say to you after what he did?"

Lily tried--and failed--to swallow, her mouth suddenly dry. What would Ophelia say if she knew what had really happened between Lily and Paolo? If she was this upset over his merely dumping her... Lily didn't care to think and had no intention of finding out.

She drew the card, which bore his mark, from the envelope and unfolded it.

Meredith peered over her shoulder. So did Ophelia, but she was pretending not to.

"_You are cordially invited to attend an exclusive gathering consisting only of the worthy and elite, to take place at eight o'clock sharp on this 23 day of the Twelfth month. Please be advised that dress is formal. Martino and Mercedes Giovanni, Hosts."_ Meredith read aloud.

She turned to Lily, who was still staring at the card in disbelief. "Do you know what this is?"

"An invitation?" Lily said dumbly.

"No. It's not just an _invitation_. Lily, _no one _gets invited to this thing! Don't you see that? This is..." She looked to Ophelia for help.

"Purebloods." Ophelia supplied through clenched teeth. "The creme de la creme of Wizarding society, all standing around and congratulating each other for having the distinct fortune to be the result of imbreeding! It's disgusting."

Meredith nodded. "It's rather _the_ party of the year. People would kill for an invite." She paused. "And you have one."

"Yes?" Lily was struggling to follow their rambling conversation.

"It doesn't make sense, Lily. Even if Paolo loved you. People like that...they don't welcome people like you into their inner circle." Ophelia explained, her expression softening.

"People like me? Oh. Oh! You mean a 'mudblood'. " Lily replied calmly.

"Or blood traitors like us." added Meredith. "You'll notice that we didn't merit an invitation."

"The 23rd..." Lily murmured, staring down at the parchment in front of her. "That's tonight!" She sprang from the bed. "There's hardly any time!"

Ophelia and Meredith exchanged a look.

"You can't mean to go, Lily!" Meredith exclaimed.

Lily stopped her frantic pacing and looked at her friend. "Of course I'm going!"

"But Lily!" She protested. "Didn't you hear anything we just said?"

Lily shrugged. "I don't care about anyone else! Only him."

Ophelia's eyes narrowed. "Didn't you promise James that you wouldn't go anywhere?"

Lily stopped cold. "How did you know about...?"

"Black mentioned it. He said that James was adamant about keeping you here." Ophelia continued.

"Well, I don't care! This isn't about Potter. It's about--"

"But you _promised, _Lily! You gave your word." protested Meredith, taking her sister's side for perhaps the first time since Lily had known them.

"He tricked me into it." Lily grumbled, rammaging through her trunk.

"Tricked you?" the sisters said in unison.

"He threatened to snog me and convinced me to promise while I was distracted."

Meredith laughed. "Why am I not surprised? That certainly sounds like Potter!"

Ophelia smiled as well. "If he did snog her, maybe she'd forget about these daft notions concerning Giovanni."

Meredith sighed. "Not bloody likely. Look, Lily, if you mean to go, at _least_ let me help you. If you wear that Muggle thing, as lovely as it is, you'll stand out like a sore thumb. And trust me, with this crowd, standing out is a bad thing."


	18. Chapter 18

The party was virtually nothing like Lily had expected. Guests milled about bedecked in jewels and finery of a sort that Lily couldn't even afford to dream of, much less own. Though her dress was nothing to be ashamed of--thank Merlin for Meredith--it certainly was not on par with the other attendees. How embarassing to be so accutely aware just how far below his station she was--the frock she wore likely cost more than her entire wardrobe and she was still less fashionable than the serving staff.

Soft music played in the background, but no one was dancing. Instead, they sipped at drinks served in silver goblets--goblin wrought Lily was certain--clustering together in small groups, their speech scarely discernable. Hardly what Lily would have classified as a party. It was, Lily reflected ruefully, precisely what Meredith and Ophelia told her it would be. But she hadn't come for the party. She'd come for him. For Paolo.

She craned her neck about, this way and that, searching. Amazing that so many of this crowd looked alike. It was difficult to pick out one distinct face from another when they all looked so much alike. Meredith was certainly asute in her assumption that standing out would be disasterous. She was already recieving more than her fair share of cold glances and heard more than a few cutting remarks uttered in her general direction.

She moved towards a table from which the goblets were being served, reasoning that he was bound to end up here--eventually. Nor was she disappointed, for it was but a moment later that she perceived him standing a few paces away, chatting with a fashionably dressed blonde. She moved towards him, her heart pounding wildly with the sudden delight of finally seeing him again. Was this how Potter felt about her? If so, then she pitied him, truely pitied him to be so constantly shot down.

Paolo looked up suddenly, his warm brown eyes alighting on her for a split second before returning to his partner. He continued to converse without even favoring her with a flicker of acknowledgement. Lily froze, mid-stride. Why did he not look at her, come to her? Why was he still just standing there, as if he couldn't possibly care less? Hadn't he invited her to this little soiree? Her agony--her impatience--to speak with him could not be greater. And yet he continued to just ignore her.

After what seemed to Lily like ages, he excused himself from his companion and moved towards her, a nuetral expression on his face.

"Paolo." She breathed, her voice giving away the depth of regard she still felt for him as clearly as if she'd spoken it.

She held out her hand to him. He stared at it for a moment before accepting, pressing it lightly before dropping it. He averted his eyes from her, as if afraid to observe her too closely.

"Miss Evans." He said stiffly, formally. "How...delightful to see you here. Alone. Unescorted." He had an odd expression on his face, as if he were waging some dire internal battle. He smiled suddenly. "This certainly isn't the place for conversation. Please, meet me on the veranda in a few moments. We have much to discuss."

He pressed her hand lightly again before turning on his heel and abruptly taking his leave.

Lily was robbed of all presence of mind by his behavior and address. Whatever she'd expected from him by coming here, it certainly wasn't this. She wondered momentarily if she should stand him up. It was a ridiculous thought. She loved him--desperately. Surely he was going to offer her something by way of explanation for his behavior, both here and as of late. That must be it!

Her spirits thus bolstered, Lily made her way through the crowd towards the veranda, the door to which stood slightly ajar. Thinking he must surely be waiting for her, she rushed out.

Her thoughts were a happy reality, for he stood on the balcony, back to her and cloak billowing in the breeze.

"Paolo?" She called hesitantly.

He whipped around to face her, his face grim, beset with guilt and rage.

"I told you not to come!" His wand was out, leveled at her. "Why the _fuck_ didn't you listen to me?"

She opened her mouth to reply, only to discover that shock impeded her ability to speak.

_"Petrificus Totalus!"_ He hissed at her.

Lily fell, hopelessly bound by his spell and helplessly at his mercy.


	19. Chapter 19

Pitch darkness--she couldn't see and she couldn't move.

Where was she? What had...it came to her in a flooding rush. He'd _hexed_ her. Paolo had hexed her! But being petrified didn't explain her lack of consciousness, nor did it explain her inability to see. She could hear, however, so she focused on that.

"How prodigous of you to show up. How delightfully _convenient._ And here I thought I'd have to invite you." Paolo was saying, his voice as smooth as silk.

"Fuck off, Giovanni." The second voice was clearly James, but there was no real heat to it. He sounded annoyed. "I'm not here at your behest."

Paolo laughed. "Of course not. Let me guess, Dumbledore sent you in a last ditch effort to recover my immortal soul from the clutches of darkness? How _droll!_"

James sighed. "Look, Giovanni, it doesn't have to be this way."

"Really?" Paolo replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You mean I have a _choice_? Believe me, Potter, with my Master, there is no choice."

"There's always a choice." James persisted.

"Touching, Potter, but riddle me this, why do you care? I seem to remember you threatening to _avada_ me when last we met. Forgive me if I find your sudden altrusim rather suspicious."

"I _don't_ care." James replied. "But...someone else...does. And I'd do anything for her." He paused, as if unable to believe what he was about to say. "Even this."

If Lily could have moved to express her amazement, she would have. She'd no idea that James...

How could he be so _wonderful?_

Paolo laughed again. "Touching, charming, and oh-so-cliche. In short, the very definition of James Potter. Is it any wonder she doesn't give you the time of day?"

"Fuck you, Giovanni." James hissed, his cool wavering.

"No, Potter, it's you who's quite thoroughly _fucked._" Paolo returned with equal animosity. "You have something my Lord requires, and I intend to recover it."

James sighed. "You can drop the wand, Giovanni. Even if I had the faintest _clue_ what you were talking about, I wouldn't tell you a damn thing. No matter what you did--tried to do--to me."

"Ah." Paolo said, sounding amused again. "But it isn't _you _who will suffer if you fail to comply."

"Beg pardon?" James sounded more than a bit confused.

"Leverage, Potter, leverage."

Sudden light flooded her retinas as the silk blanket--the reason for her blindness--was whisked away. She blinked furiously, tears coming to her eyes.

"Lily!"

"Ah-ah, Potter, stay right where you are." Paolo warned.

Her vision finally cleared enough for Lily to perceive Paolo--the man she loved--standing over her, his wand once again aimed at her. She struggled violently against the invisible bonds that held her, knowing even as she did so that such attempts were futile.

"What do you want?" James demanded, his voice wavering a bit.

"That's more like it. Shall we try this again?" Paolo paused, raising a brow at James. "Let's begin with the artifact. Where is it? Where does Dumbledore keep it?"

"Artifact?" James replied in a tone that sounded perfectly innocent. "I can't say I have any knowledge of any artifact."

Paolo sighed deeply. "So we're going to do this the hard way, then?" He gestured with his wand. "_Crucio!_"

Lily had the barest of moments to register the fact that her boyfriend had just cast an Unforgivable at her before the pain began. She writhed with it, or she would have, if not for the binding spell which still held her captive, screaming soundlessly. Agony, _agony_ so intense that death would have been a welcome relief. It couldn't have been long that he held her, but to Lily it felt like an eternity before he banished the spell.

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" James demanded in disbelief and rage, his wand coming out.

Paolo was faster. "_Expelliarmus!_" The wand flew from James' hand, flopping uselessly to the stone floor a few meters away.

"I do what I must. I'm not to blame for this, Potter, you are. I told you quite plainly. If _you_ fail to cooperate, _she_ suffers. Now, the _artifact_. Gryffindor's sword. _Where is it?!_"

"What makes you think that they'd even tell me?" James scoffed, stepping slightly towards his fallen wand.

But Paolo wasn't buying it. "Don't play games with me, Potter. I know what team you play for. I know all about your precious Dumbledore and his quaint little Order. As if they stand a chance against the might of my Lord! Now where the _fuck_ is it?"

James hesitated for a fraction of a second. "Fuck you, Giovanni, I don't know!"

"_Crucio!"_ Paolo hissed. Pain. Horrible incomprehensible _pain. _It was worse this time, much worse because she knew it was coming. She knew what to expect. The bonds that held her were weakening under the intensity of her desire to contort herself. She issued a pathetic little whimper that both men heard, for two sets of eyes were on her. Paolo again released her.

"_I'll fucking kill you_!" James was livid now, his face a mask of rage.

"Freeze, Potter. Don't make me hurt her again." Paolo threatened.

James complied, clearly against his baser instincts, for his hands were clenched and he was shaking with the effort to control himself. "How can you do this to her?" James demanded. He moved again, subtly closing the distance that seperated him from that vital piece of polished wood.

"The better question is how can _you_? Just give me--give my Lord--what he wants and she has no further need to suffer." Paolo was regarding James with utter contempt and loathing. "Do you think this is easy for me, Potter? I care for her! And you're forcing me to do this!"

James was close. Really close to recovering his wand. A few paces and he'd have it.

"You care for her?" James choked out in disbelief. "How the FUCK can you even claim that when you're torturing her? And not just tonight! You've tortured her for months with your cruelty and indifference!"

"I HAD NO CHOICE!" Paolo raged at James. "I was under orders! It was an accident, stumbling across her that day, so vulnerable, so _beautiful!_ I never had any intention of falling for her--I just wanted to get laid! But I did. And then you ruined it! It was my _father_ you stole that artifact out from under. Do you have any idea what kind of a postion that placed me in? My Lord does not tolerate failure." He was glaring at James with an expression of complete loathing. "I was under orders, Potter. Orders that forced me to hurt the girl I'd come to care for! All because of you!"

Two more steps.

"If you cared for her, felt for her a _fraction_ of what I do, you'd slit your own throat rather than cause her even a hint of pain! YOU DON'T LOVE HER, GIOVANNI, SO STOP FUCKING PRETENDING YOU DO!"

Paolo laughed, a mirthless sound. "Not love her? I adore her! But my family honor is at stake! Don't you see that? She's a mudblood! She's filthy. Impure. I can't be in love with her!"

"You are seriously fucked up." James replied, his eyes widening in amazement. "I'd give anything if she'd look at me the way she does you, and you'd throw that all away over something so stupid!"

"Stupid, Potter? You want stupid? How this for you? What would you call a pathetic bastard who moons around over a girl who'd rather fuck his mortal enemy than glance in his direction? Tell me, how does it feel to know that _even now _she'd leap to my side and join me if she could? How does it feel to know that I had her legs wrapped around me, felt what it was like to be inside her?"

Lily had thought James was angry before, but she was wrong. He went cold and utterly expressionless, his wand leveling in Paolo's direction with deadly precision--recovered while his enemy was distracted.

"When will you learn?" Paolo sighed in annoyance. "When you misbehave, she suffers."

He waved his wand, but James had had enough. He gestured as well, begining his own hex in response.

"_Sectumsemp_-" Paolo began.

"_Avada Kedav--" _James whispered in a cold, detached tone.

"--_ra!"_ Paolo finished a breath before James did, giving Lily a single horrible moment to watch her body--her chest and wrists--split open, her flesh rending asunder as if slashed by a sword.

Blood fountained from her wounds, draining, _draining. _She looked over at Paolo, who lay cold and lifeless a short distance away. He was gone. Dead. And she still loved him. She watched absently the crimson liquid continued to flow from her unchecked, unable to muster even a token horrified response.

Then James was beside her, his brow furrowed and his expression frantic as he desperately murmured every spell and counter he knew. Pain faded into blessed numbness--Lily was only dimly aware of her body.

"Lily!" James had given up trying to find a counter, instead attempting to bind the cuts with a series of makeshift tourniquets.

"Good-bye, James..." She murmured groggily, feeling the weakness and dizziness give way. The tentative anchor that held her trapped in her physical body was fraying--it would be gone soon. She'd be...

Free.

"Don't you _fucking _leave me, Lily!" His voice sounded inhuman--animalistic--and so contorted with pain that Lily felt a stirring of pity for him as she drifted away...

Elsewhere.

"_Don't you fucking dare!_ I swear that I'll--"

But what James swore Lily would never know, for she was no longer bound to her weakened and dying body. She drifted upward, or rather tried to, but found that she couldn't leave. Something--someone--was preventing her, keeping her here. She felt a presence, familiar and yet utterly unknown, barring her way.

_Let me go. _She whispered to it. _I'm tired and I need to leave._

_I can't_. The Prescence replied. _I need you. _

_I can't stay!_ Lily protested. _It's my time. I have no reason to stay._

_Me._ It begged. _Let me be your reason. I love you._

_But I can't!_ She moaned, the desire to go becoming agonizingly insistant. _I can't stay! I haven't the strength!_

_Is that all? _Was the response. _Then take MINE._

Light and warmth flooded into her, a torrent that forced her back and downward, slamming her into awareness of her tormented body. She gasped, her breath rattling in her fluid filled lungs. Pain, accute and searing, clutched her every fiber.

Then darkness.


	20. Chapter 20

Voices--murmuring and muffled.

Slight rustling.

She shifted her position, trying to find relief from the pain. Why wouldn't her limbs work?

"She's awake!" someone exclaimed.

"Lily! Lily can you hear us?" the second voice was familiar.

She felt something--a hand--clutch her arm, shaking. She snapped to awareness at once, sitting straight up in bed. Instantly, a cup was pressed to her lips. She didn't question it, she just drank. And promptly sputtered. It was ruddy awful!

"Try not to spit it out, dear."

She complied, downing the foul liquid in a gulp.

"Water." she demanded, her throat sore--cracked and parched--from lack of moisture. Someone pressed a second cup to her lips. She grabbed it, downing the cold liquid in long, shuddering gulps.

"More!" she insisted, finding her voice already less hoarse.

"You'll be sick!" the familiar voice admonished.

She blinked, her eyes finally finding focus. "Ophelia?" The dozens of superimposed images melded into one.

"Yes, it's me." Ophelia stood over her, her hair tangled and disheveled, dark purple circling her eyes.

"You look awful." Lily muttered, pushing back her own lank hair.

"We were worried!" another voice put it. Meredith appeared next to Ophelia.

"What..._happened_?" Lily asked, struggling to recall.

Meredith and Ophelia exchanged a glance. "You've been out for three days! We were hoping you could tell us." Ophelia finally said.

"I don't really remember." Lily replied. But it wasn't stictly true. She did remember. She just didn't want to, for remembering meant that James had...

Tears welled in her eyes.

"It's ok, Lily." Meredith patted her arm in a reassuring manner.

"So she _is_ awake!" The voice belonged to Black and he sounded incredulous.

"Yes." Ophelia replied, leveling a glare in the direction of the door.

"He wants to see her." Black responded, heedless of Ophelia's continued disapproval of his escalating voice. "He insisted that she was awake and he won't rest till he's seen her."

Meredith turned to Lily. "Do you feel up to seeing James, love?"

"I..."

Ophelia leaned closer, lowering her voice so that Black couldn't hear. "Lily, you should have died. You'd lost so much blood, there was so much nerve damage--you should have _died._ You would have died, if it wasn't for James Potter. He...he did _something_. Some kind of powerful magic. The healers can't explain it and he isn't talking. But..." Ophelia trailed off.

"They had to drug him." Black had edged closer to the bed, peering down at Lily. "He didn't want to leave you. He was _out of his mind_! He was injured, not far from death himself, and he wouldn't leave you. So they drugged him. Can't you just fucking give him ten minutes?"

"Black!" Both Ophelia and Meredith hissed in unison.

He jumped back a bit, well out of fist range. "I'm just saying..." he muttered.

"I'll see him." Lily said quietly.

She had questions. Questions that needed answered. She hadn't missed the fact that no one was mentioning Paolo. If he'd been hurt, brought here, someone would have mentioned it. Which meant...

She had questions for James.

"I'll be back in a deuce!" Black said, quickly rushing for the door, as if afraid she'd change her mind.

Almost immediately shouts and rustling could be heard in the hallway.

"You can't just move my patient, young man!" Lily heard a mediwitch screeching just outside her door. "He's gravely ill!"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist." Black replied flippantly. "He'd be a hell of a lot worse if you had to drug him again."

"You're a _horrible_ boy!" came the shrill response. "_Twenty minutes!_ Do you hear me? _Twenty!_"

"Yeah, yeah."

The door creaked and the curtain slid back.

"Wait a minute you ruddy idiot!" Black called from the hall. "I'll help you."

But James wasn't listening--having made his way--limping--to stand by Lily's bed. Ophelia and Meredith leapt up in an instant, urging James to sit down. He refused a chair, sinking instead on to the edge of the bed, reaching out to gently take her hand.

"He--" Black began, joining the growing crowd in Lily's room. He stopped upon seeing James on Lily's bed, clutching her hand in his.

"We should give them a minute."

Ophelia and Meredith seemed to agree, for they wordlessly followed Black from the room.

"How are you?" His eyes were on her, smouldering with barely repressed emotions.

She looked at him carefully taking in his taut face. He was pale, the skin around his mouth and eyes deathly white.

"Ruddy awful." She admitted, finding it hard to speak. She paused. "I guess I should thank you."

His fingers were tracing lightly along her the underside of her wrist, caressing the scars left by...

She couldn't finish the thought.

"Thank me, Lily?" He sounded almost offended at the thought. "You're _thanking me?_ Believe me, I'm the last person you should thank. This is all my fault."

"You saved me." She said simply, ignoring the persistant memories of James, wand drawn...

"Don't you get it, Lily?" He said. "You were only in danger because of _me!_ Because of my feelings for you. Giovanni would never have hurt you if he hadn't been trying to get to me. You-know-who, he uses people, people his enemies are close to." He paused. "And I made my feelings for you fairly obvious. I may as well have hexed you myself."

"You warned me."

"I did. I knew that they might use you--the Death Eaters or the Order--but I should have done more!" He ran a trembling hand through his messy hair. "I'm worse than he is." His voice dropped to a whisper of accute self-loathing. "I _killed_ him, Lily. I killed your boyfriend."

"You...you had to..." The tears were coming, stinging her as they spilled over her eyelids. Her question was answered. Paolo. Her love. Dead.

"You don't _understand!_ I didn't kill him because he was a threat. I didn't kill him because he was a Death Eater and lives were at stake. He _was _dangerous and he _would have _killed. But that wasn't what was going through my head, it wasn't _why_ I did it!" His voice was agonized, pained beyond anything she could comprehend.

"Then why?"

"I killed him because he touched you. He had you and I couldn't stand it. I love you, Lily, and you loved him. I _hated_ him for it. He was hurting you. He'd hurt you before. And when he said that bit about being with you, I snapped. So you see? You shouldn't thank me." His eyes were fixed on their still entwined hands.

"A lot of things were happening..." Why was she defending him? Lily herself wasn't sure.

"That's not all." He replied, his voice deathly quiet. "I'm a selfish bastard, Lily. You were dying. Leaving me. I knew that your pain must be horrible, but I couldn't let you go. So I--"

"Times up, mate." Black said, peering around the curtain and sounding regretful at being forced to interrupt.

"Just a _minute_, Padfoot." James was clearly annoyed.

"Sorry. No can do. That mediwitch threatened my manhood if I didn't get you back in bed _right now_." He grabbed James by the arm.

"But--" James cast a longing glance back at her, the feel of his eyes so intense that she could percieve it even through the haze of tears that crowded her vision.

"Later." Black insisted.

James pressed a chaste kiss to the back of her hand. "Forgive me."

Black coughed, averting his gaze. "You done?"

"No." James replied crossly, but he allowed Black to lead him towards the door.

Lily watched them go, reigning in her tears until the door closed behind them. As soon as she was alone, she let go, sobbing into her pillow uncontrollably. Paolo was dead. He was really dead. And James had killed him. Her thoughts were jumbled, her emotions conflicted. Paolo hurt her. James killed him. Palo loved her...

None of it made sense. She needed time to try and work it out.

"Are you ok?" Meredith sounded uncertain, hesitant.

"No." She rolled over, stilling her tears, and looked at her friends. "James killed Paolo."

"We know." Ophelia said simply. "But it makes sense now, you know?"

"Huh?" Lily eyed Ophelia as if she'd taken leave of her senses. What was she talking about? None of it made sense!

"Your dream." Ophelia continued. "It all makes sense. The attack, the blood, it all makes sense."

"I wish you would make some." Meredith muttered.

Ophelia ignored her. "_Fourteen_, Lily. Paolo gave you fourteen gashes with his spell. He spilled your blood, which showed him for what he truely was."

"But what about the Inferi?" Lily wondered.

"I'm not sure." Ophelia admitted. "Metaphysical manifestations of death? _Death Eaters?_ They were stopped, in your dream, by the sword of Gryffindor..." She snapped her fingers. "James. Has to be. It's the only thing that fits."

But Lily knew something of the sword, knew it was a real artifact. James had nicked it. But somehow it seemed wise not to mention it. Knowledge of the sword could be dangerous.

"Dreams, aside, Ophelia," Meredith put it. "we need to tell her."

Ophelia sighed deeply. "You tell her. I got stuck the last time."

"You _lost._" Meredith reminded her. "You lost fair and square."

"But still, I took the last time!" Ophelia whined.

"Would someone please tell me?" Lily cut in impatiently.

Now Meredith sighed. "Fine. I'll tell her." She looked at Lily. "I hate to dump this on you, with everything you've already been through, but you need to know."

"Know what?" Lily practically snapped.

"They're making you go into hiding, Lily. You and Potter. They think you could still be targets."


	21. Chapter 21

"Welcome home, love. Should I carry you across the threshold in true romantic style or shall we forego such formalities?" Black asked with a wink and a grin.

"What do you think?" She replied, glaring at him.

He sighed. "I think that this is going to be the worst assignment I've ever been guilted into accepting."

"When they said that James and I were to go into hiding, I thought they meant _together._" Lily grumbled, allowing Black to hold open the door for her.

"So did he." He commented, casually following her into the safe house that was to be their shared quarters--indefinitely. "Believe me when I say that you should be glad you weren't present. I thought he'd never listen to reason."

"The reasoning being?" Lily spun around to face him, hands on her hips.

He grinned a bit. "Miss him already, do you Evans?"

She licked lips gone abruptly dry, frantically thinking of a plausible retort. "Anyone is preferable to _you_, Black."

His grin faded instantly. "Sweet, Evans. Quite brilliant. I'll be sure to tell him that you barely find him preferable to me. I'm sure that will go down real well, given that he saved your life and all."

Her hands left her hips, clutching instead into fists, just controlling the undeniable urge to slug him. "Why you?" She demanded.

Black sighed, deep and long-suffering. "Because I'm the only one he'd trust. Look Evans, do you think this is a ruddy lark for me? I'd much rather be with him myself. He's my best mate. My place is with him, watching his back. Instead, I'm stuck with you. Babysitting. _Again._"

Lily was silent for a moment, studying the gaudy patterns etched into the carpet with more interest than they warrented. "I still don't see why they couldn't have just kept us together."

Black ran his eyes over her, his gaze taking on a stony glint. "I don't get you, Evans, I really don't. One minute you seem to barely stand him and the next..." He shrugged. "It seems as if you almost _fancy_ him."

Lily went scarlet to the eyebrows, tossing her hair to cover her blushes. "You-you didn't answer my question."

"You're a liability." Black said bluntly, letting the issue drop for the time being. "You can be used against him. And I don't think he's strong enough to go through that again. Fact of the matter is, love, he can't look out for himself and protect you at the same time. When you're about...he's not himself."

"Oh." Lily replied articulately.

"Yeah. _Oh."_

"I'm going upstairs to check out the bedrooms." Her tone was probably more curt than he deserved, but Lily was sick of him.

She turned abruptly on her heel, making for the stairs. She reached the third step before she realized that Black was right behind her.

She glared back at him. "What do you think you're doing?"

He smiled that famous grin that half the girls at Hogwarts were mad about, but Lily had come to realize meant he was about to say something inappropriate. "Following you, of course. I want to see where we'll be sleeping."

"We?" She was going to regret asking, she just knew it.

"Yes, Evans, _we_. If we're going to be stuck here for Merlin-knows-how-long I'm certainly not sleeping alone. You wouldn't deny a bloke a little love would you?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her.

Did James have any idea what a pig his best mate was? Lily rather thought it must have escaped his notice. If he did, he'd never have subjected her to this.

Lily gave an exasperated click of the tongue. "I'm sure you're quite capable of 'loving' yourself. And with material like that, I'm sure you've had _plenty _of practice."

Black stared at her blankly for a moment, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. He grabbed her abruptly, knocking her off balance, forcing her to clutch at him or tumble down the stairs.

"I could _do_ things to you, Evans. _Sinful_ things." His voice was a husky whisper, their lips inches apart. "If my best mate wasn't in love with you..."

Lily rolled her eyes dramatically and shoved him back. She knew he didn't mean it--he was all talk. And he was well aware she knew. His flirting disgusted her, for there was no sentiment behind it. He was baiting her for his own amusement. "Honestly, Black, as if I'd let you. If I wouldn't do those things with James, who claims to be in love with me, what makes you think you'd stand the slightest chance?"

He licked his lips. "Oh you'd let me, Evans. You'd beg me. If I was minded, I could charm your knickers right off of you." He paused. "But James would kill me. Or castrate me. Or both. Preferably in that order."

"Come off it, Black." She turned her back to him, hoping to flee up the stairs.

"Look Evans, games aside. If we're going to be stuck here together, don't you think we should at least _try_ to get along?"

She sent a rude gesture at him over her shoulder.

"Atta girl! Way to be a team player!"

Bastard. Lily thought with no little animosity. He was laughing at her!

* * *

Lily rolled to her side and stretched languidly, her eyes fluttering open to find...

Black. In bed with her. His face inches from hers.

She screamed and lurched backward, her legs tangling in the sheets as she fell off the bed.

Black peered down at her from his perch, grinning _that_ grin.

"Black what the _fuck!_" She demanded, rubbing her arse.

"To celebrate our two weeks of living together, I thought I'd bring you breakfast in bed." Black chuckled, making no move to assist her. Git.

She disintangled herself from her sheets. "Where is it?"

"I said I _thought_ I'd bring you breakfast in bed. Then I remembered it was work."

"I hate you." She muttered, pulling on her robe over her flannel pajamas.

"No, you don't. You _love _me." He paused. "Nice nightclothes, by the way. Very sexy."

"No, very _safe_." She replied, heading for the door. "You hardly expect me to wear what I normally would, given that I'm sharing quarters with you."

"You used to share quarters with James and it didn't seem to bother you." Black pointed out, following her.

"James can be trusted to behave." Lily retorted as they walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

He chuckled, pulling a box of cereal from the cabinet. "You really don't know him at all, do you?"

Lily snatched the box from him, pouring a measured amount into a pair of bowls. "I know him well enough to know he'd never take advantage!"

"_Do_ you now? Then why is it that I know what you normally wear to bed?"

She stopped short, spilling milk all over the table. "What?"

" 'Strappy green silk affair' " Black quoted. " 'Ends about, here.' " He ran his hand across her thigh.

She banished the milk with a casual gesture of her wand. "He _told_ you?"

He laughed again. "Did you really think you could hang all over him wearing something like that and _not_ have it make an impress--" He was stopped by the sudden arrival of an owl, which tapped insistantly on the window pane. He slid the window open, reaching out to accept the delivery. The owl perched, ruffling its feathers--waiting.

He sighed deeply. "Give it a _rest_ already, mate!" He muttered under his breath, turning the letter over. He handed it to her. "Here. It's for you."

She took it, eying it with some trepidation. "There's no mark on it. No address. How do you know it's for me?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you, Lily? Only one person knows we're here, and he's damn sure not writing to me. So open it, already!"

She broke the seal quickly.

_"How are you?" _Black read over her shoulder. "Well?"

She stared at him blankly. "Well what?"

"Are you going to answer him or keep the poor owl waiting all day?" He conjured quill and parchment effortlessly, handing both to her.

She hesitated. How was she to respond? Awful? Black's a ruddy idiot? She scratched a single word on the parchment.

Black peered over her shoulder shamelessly reviewing her work. "Fine?" He said incredulously. "All you can think to say is 'fine'? Cold, Evans, really cold."

She glared at him over her shoulder and added another phrase. She rolled the parchment before Black could see, and sent the owl on its way.

"What did you write?"

"None of your business."

"Evans." Black's face was deadly serious. "This isn't a game. You have no idea--"

He stopped. The owl was back. "What the _fuck_ did you write?"

He grabbed the parchment, unfurling it himself.

"Hey!" Lily protested, making a grab for it.

He whirled away, reading aloud. "_I miss you, too. I want to see you."_ He raised a brow at her. "Fan-fucking-tastic, Evans. You told him you missed him? Do you have any idea what you've done? It was hard enough keeping him under control before. You may as well have declared your undying love."

He thrust parchment at her. "Tell him no. Tell him it's too dangerous. Crush him. You know, your _usual_."

She ignored him, careful not to allow him to see her reply.

_I want to see you, too. But __he__ says it's too dangerous._

James would know who 'he' was. She pushed past Black, sending the owl away with her reply.

"Why do I get the feeling that you've once again done something dangerous and stupid?" Black wondered aloud as they waited for the response. She didn't answer. Her heart was pounding, her pulse fluttering wildly as she anticipated his reply.

She didn't wait long, the owl was back in less time than before. She beat Black to it, clutching the parchment and opening it with as much haste as she could manage. She tried to sheild it from view with her body, but Black read it anyway.

"_Tell him to fuck off and mind his own business. Tell him that I want to meet you tonight. Usual time. Usual place."_

Black sank into one of the kitchen chairs. "Brilliant, Evans, just brilliant." He was rubbing his temples as if fighting off a headache.

"Don't worry about it, Black, just tell me where to go and what time. You needn't concern yourself further."

He looked up at her. "Oh no, love, I'm going." He paused. "Someone has to guard your virtue."

"I hardly think that I need protecting from James!"

He laughed. "Trust me. You _do_. It was all I could do to keep him off of you _before _your little love notes."

"They were not love notes!"

"I promise you, James would _not _agree. I don't doubt that he's blown this all out of proportion, imagining that you're going to fall into his arms and snog him senseless. So unless you _want_ him all over you, you'll need me there to keep him in line." He paused, waiting for her response.

She couldn't reply, couldn't muster the indignant protest she knew he was expecting. She looked down at her hands, blushing a bit.

"_Holy fuck._" He exclaimed in amazement. "You _do_ want him all over you! Well, I'm still coming. There's no way I'm missing the look on his face when he figures that out."


	22. Chapter 22

Lily was no real fan of flying--heights bothered her--but she was willing to endure nearly any hardship to get out of the house. And see to James, her mind added, forcing her to be honest. She shivered a bit, struggling to keep pace with Black, who flew just ahead and to her right. She pulled her cloak more tightly about her with her free hand. The mist made direction nearly impossible--she hadn't the faintest idea where they were going. They'd already flown for _ages_ and still Black gave no indication that they were near their destination.

He looked back at her, tilting his broom steeply--descending--and motioning for her to follow suit. She complied, trying to ignoring the light, fluttery feeling of anticipation churning in her stomach.

They alighted, landing in a clearing--a grove--in the middle of what appeared to be a forest of substantial size. The Forbidden Forest, she realized. It made sense, in a way. She'd known that since she'd first met them that the Marauder's gave only casual heed to rules and edicts, why should she be surprised that they met routinely in the Forest?

Black dismounted, moving to assist her--_now_ he decides to be the gentleman--but he was pushed out of the way by James, who'd been awaiting them impatiently.

"Hello to you, too, mate." Black muttered.

James ignored him, taking her hand to help her dismount. Strictly speaking, he should have released it once his act of chivalry was completed, but he seemed to have no inclination in that direction.

"How are you?" He clasped her hand tightly, turning it over--examining. His free hand moved upward to touch her, the very tips of his fingers lightly brushing the thin, sensitive skin of her wrist.

"Better." She could scarcely breathe--his touch was sending tingles throughout her body. "The scars are gone."

"I see." His expression was thoughtful, eyes flitting to focus on her chest. "What about...?"

"There too." She replied to his unfinished question.

"And no, she's _not_ going to show you." Black put in, speaking for the first time.

James' turned faintly pink. "I wasn't going to ask."

"Riiiight." Black teased.

James must have decided that the conversation was heading in the wrong direction, for he disregarded the sally and turned back to Lily. "You said you missed me. Why?"

Her knees went weak and she trembled under the instensity of his gaze. "I did miss you." She admitted. "Black has been driving me ruddy _insane_."

His face fell, his entire countenance taking on a dejected appearance. "That's it?" the hurt and disapointment he was feeling was evident in his tone. "You just prefer me to Sirius?"

"I..." She struggled to find the right words to recover the situation, but found that she had none.

Ruddy hell!

She did the only thing she could think of--she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. He went rigid with shock, stiff and unresponding beneath her lips. She increased her intensity, dragging her tongue slowly along his lower lip in an attempt to coax him. Nothing. Not even a flicker. She drew back, panting slightly. Both James and Black stared at her, mouths open, nearly identical in their expressions of astonishment.

Heat rushed into her cheeks. "I thought...you wanted me to..."

She'd never been so humiliated in her entire life. How could she have misjudged things so completely? Her eyes dropped to the forest floor, focusing on the fallen leaves collected underneath her feet.

He grabbed her with a sudden violence that would have made her yelp, if his lips hadn't been in the way. One hand tangled into her hair, the other finding her waist to pull her flush against him. His lips seared hers in a painful kiss--heart-breakingly disperate and _affection-starved_--nearly smothering her with his intensity. Icy fingers of guilt clutched at her spine. She'd done this to him. Reduced him to this state a pathetic need. Her lips parted under his ministrations, her tongue moving to meet his seeking one. She wasn't aware that they were moving backward until her back collided with the solid roughness of a nearby tree trunk.

"If you think I'm saving you, Evans," Black said conversationally. "you can ruddy well forget it. You've brought this on yourself."

What in Merlin's name made Black think that she wanted him to? Her hand moved upward with the intent of sending him the sort of gesture his comment warrented, but James wanted no distractions. He caught her hand deftly, pining it firmly against the tree. He leaned inward, his body pressing--crushing--hers into the bark. His kiss was needy--undeniably and frantically so. He was dangerously close to losing control. It was nearly frightening, the depth of regard evident with every caress of his lips. Paolo had _never_ loved her, of this Lily was certain, for James clearly _did_. The difference was marked. How could she have ever mistaken the flattered fancy Paolo had shown her for true love? She melted into him, returning his ferverent kisses with equal intensity.

He pulled back with extreme reluctance, sucking lightly on her bottom lip before severing the contact between them. He stared at her, his face tantilizingly, _agonizingly_ close to hers.

"Well," he murmured, his lips lightly brushing her cheek. "this rather changes things."

He lowered his mouth, planting slow, languid kisses along column of her neck.

"There's no reason why we shouldn't be together." He said between kisses. "None at all. Would you like that, Lily?"

Her back arched involentarily when his lips connected with a particularly sentitive spot, her erect nipples straining against his chest. She gasped and moaned. "Yes."

A nip. His teeth grazed against her pulse point. She gasped again. "God yes."

He removed his lips from her neck, leaning backward to look at her, his eyes meeting hers. He studied her for a moment, his fingers sliding from her hair, his thumb lightly caressing her lips. Lily nearly died at the touch.

"Padfoot." He called to Black, his eyes never leaving hers. "I want her with me."

"Of _course_ you do." Black groaned in exasperation. "Prongs we've been _through_ this. At length, With Dumbledore. You can't--"

"That was _before_." James cut him off quickly.

"Yes, yes. I know. Before she snogged you senseless." Black sighed. "Crush him, I tell her. Break his heart. Just do the usual. And what does she do? She _bloody well_ goes and snogs him! Honestly, Evans, I think you do these things just to hock me off!"

A pause.

"They're not going to go for it, Prongs. I can tell you that right now. Dumbledore and the Order won't have it. It's far too dangerous. You're both safer if we spread out the targets."

"There's one way." James pointed out, peeling his gaze from her and turning to look at his mate. "They'd have to let us be together then. Not even Dumbledore would have a say."

Black's eyes widened with understanding. "Prongs. I hate to break this to you, mate, but it is _not _going to happen. It...it was just one kiss. You've never even dated. She'll never go for it!"

"She might." But he sounded far from certain.

"She _won't_." Black insisted.

"I really wish," Lily said in annoyance. "that the two of you would stop talking about me as if I'm not here. Tell me what it is and let _me_ be the judge of what I will or will not do."

James turned back to her, a unreadable expression on his face. He pulled her hand, still clutched in his, against his chest, so that she could feel the rapid beat of his heart underneath her fingers.

"Marry me." He said without preamble.

Her breath caught in her throat, color draining from her face in shock. "Uh..."

Black smirked, that all-to-familiar expression of extreme arrogance he always got when gloating, marring his handsome features. It was a look that said I-told-you-so plainer than if he'd spoken the words. Even if Lily had been disinclined to accept, she might have said yes anyway, just to wipe that look off his face. Git.

"Yes..."

"Yes?" James asked, his hand tightening almost painfully around hers.

"Yes." She repeated with more confindence. "I will. I want to be with you."

"No _fucking way_!" Black exclaimed in disbelief.

James paid him little heed, his eyes narrowing a bit as he looked into her face intently.

"Do you love me, Lily?" He seemed afraid to ask the question, his voice was wavering.

She felt compelled to tell him the truth--the entire truth. He deserved to know. "I fancy you. I esteem you a great deal." She couldn't hold his eyes, the mixture of emotions she read there were too much for her to take.

"So you don't love me?" She couldn't discribe his tone as disapointed--that was woefully inadequate--crushed was a better word.

She hated to say it, hated the expression on his face. "No."

He swallowed. "But you'll marry me anyway?"

"Yes." Why couldn't she come up with something that wasn't monosyllabic to say?

"Do you...do you still love _him_?" the animosity in his tone was unmistakable.

It was NOT a question Lily wanted to answer, to herself or to him.

"Does it really matter?" She asked instead.

He hesitated, running his hand through his hair. "No. I guess it doesn't." He looked at her helplessly. "I'll take you any way I can have you. Pretty pathetic, huh?"

"Yes." Black said with no little heat.

James wasn't looking at her, nor did he seem to be looking at anything in particular. He stared off into the distance.

"James, I--" She began in concern.

"It's ok, Lily." He cut her off, his eyes finally focusing on her again. "Really. It's fine. I can love enough for both of us." He leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss on her lips.

"I'll make all of the arrangements." He said when they broke apart. He turned to Black. "I'll owl you with the details."

"Prongs." Black's tone was a unique mixture of contempt, pity, and brotherly affection. "Don't you think it might be best to..." He sighed. "It's a lost cause, isn't it?"

"I know where things stand, mate, and I'm ok with it." James replied.

"But--" Black was glaring at Lily now.

"But _nothing_." James said fiercely. "It'll be fine. It will all work out the way it's _meant_ to."

Lily started. She recognized that phrase. She'd heard it before. From Ophelia. She opened her mouth to ask, but James was talking again.

"There won't be...you know...all of that fancy stuff that girls...I mean...it won't be a real wedding..." He sounded a bit sad, disapointed by the prospect.

"It doesn't matter." Lily said quickly. What did she need with a wedding? Who would she invite? Her parents, her family, were all dead and gone. Petunia would never come. So what did it matter?

But James mistook her statement for apathy, for his face fell even further. "It matters to me." He said quietly. "I'd love to have a big party with all of our family and friends."

She touched his arm, stroking it gently. "James. You...don't understand. It doesn't matter because I've no one to invite anyway." She paused, her thoughts taking a spin she thought he'd appreciate. "Besides, it's awfully romantic this way. You know, eloping against the wishes of Dumbledore and the Order."

He brightened a bit. "I guess it is."

"We need to go." Black's voice was tight, as if he were trying to refrain from comment. "We've been gone far too long as it is. If you really intend to go through with this, we need to get back before someone realizes that we're gone."

"He's right." James sounded annoyed by the sudden return to reality. He touched her cheek again. "Can you promise me...if I let you go with him...that you won't change your mind?"

"Yes." She murmured. "I promise."

"How can I trust you, Lily? You said that before, but you left the house anyway. How do I know that you won't..." He didn't seem able to finish.

She decided to show him. She tilted her head upward, her hands reaching out to pull him to her. Her lips collided with his--warm and tingling. She pressed into him so that their lower bodies touched and his arrousal, the long, hard length of him, was rubbing against her most intimate parts. She broke the kiss deliberately, giving him a look laced with meaning.

"When you put it like _that_." He choked out, by all appearance having some difficulty speaking.

"We need to go, _now_." Black was shooting daggers at her with his eyes.

"Alright, alright." A slight smile curved his lips.

He stepped back, allowing Lily to reclaim her broom and join Black, who was tapping his foot impatiently.

James helped her, guiding her onto place and pressing a series of open-mouthed kisses to her lips.

"I'll be in touch." He breathed, following a final kiss.

As soon as she mounted, Black took off like a shot, not waiting to see if she would follow. She hastened to join him, casting a lingering look back at James, watching him until he was out of sight.


	23. Chapter 23

The trip home was made in silence. Black made no attempt to converse with her and blatently ignored her if she tried. After several false starts, Lily gave up and focused on trying to ignore the frigid glares he kept shooting her direction. As soon had they crossed the threshold, however, Black turned on her, giving voice to the supressed rage he'd held the entire flight back.

"Brav-_o_, Evans." He said with a sneer, clapping his hands together in ironic applause. "Way to _go._ Just when I thought you couldn't possibly be more of a cold-hearted _bitch_--and believe me, I thought you were a _substantial_ bitch--you go and out do yourself!"

Lily whirled around to face him, eyes blazing, mouth set. "What the _hell?_ Did we enter some kind of alternate universe where I _didn't_ just agree to marry Potter?"

Black's eyes narrowed into slits. " 'I _fancy _you'? 'I _esteem_ you'? Holy _fuck_, Evans, what the hell is wrong with you? How could you be so cruel? Couldn't you have just ripped his heart out and stomped on it like you usually do?"

"I don't know what you want from me, Black. I _said_ I'd marry him for Merlin's sake! Would you rather I turn my back on him entirely? Just because I--"

"It _damn sure_ would have been better for him if you _did._" He cut her off ruthlessly. "Instead of merely spiting on his affection, instead of breaking his heart _yet again_, you're going to torture him on a daily basis for the _rest of his life!_ Teasing him. Showing him what he desperately wants and never letting him have it."

"I--I--I didn't--" She stammered weakly, struggling to come up with some form of rebuttal.

"Just shut the fuck up, Evans. Do you have any idea _at all_ how he saved you? What he did so that you would live?" Black demanded.

"No." She said sullenly, sounding like a petulant child. "No, I don't. The staff at St. Mungo's didn't know and James wouldn't tell anyone."

"Well he told _me_, and I think it's past fucking time you were enlightened." He paused, drawing a breath. "Blood magic, Evans."

"But...isn't that...a form of _dark magic_?" Her voice was hushed--a whisper. "The...Dark Arts?"

"No magic is inherently wrong, Evans. It's all about how it's used." Black brushed back his hair, which had fallen over his forehead during his tirade. "But the Ministry sure as fuck wouldn't see it that way. If they knew...he'd go to Azkaban, Lily. The Ministry doesn't fuck around."

She stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. "But if it's wrong...why...?"

"Because he fucking worships the ground you walk on! _That's why. _Do you understand, _really_ understand the implications of what he's done?" Black burst out.

"I..." She couldn't finish.

"I'll take that as a resounding 'no'." He mocked. "Well listen the hell up, _love_, because I don't intend to repeat myself. Blood magic," His voice assumed a sarcastic lecturing tone. "usually involves draining the life-force from one individual to bolster another. Forcibly. Not nice stuff. James...did the opposite. He _freely_ gave you a portion of himself, drained away his very essence so that you would live."

Her mouth opened and closed--fishlike--but her voice completely failed her. Black waited, watching her with a measuring expression as if his entire judgement of her rested on her reply.

"I...didn't...know." She finally managed to choke out.

"Tell me honestly, Evans, would it have made any kind of fucking difference to you at all? Or would you still be pining for that murdering Death Eater who tried to fucking kill you?"

Tears pricked her eyelids. "I don't know!" She wailed desperately.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" He hissed under his breath. Louder, he said: "Would you have at _least_ lied to him? Told him you loved him?"

"Wouldn't that be even more cruel, Black?" She replied, answering his question with one of her own. Tears spilled over her lids inspite of her best efforts to control them.

"No." he said bluntly. "Because you plan on marrying him anyway. Why would it matter if he thought that you loved him, even if it wasn't true? You owe him that much at least."

Lily was crying in earnest now, tears spilling down her cheeks unchecked. She made no attempt to stop them, burying her face in her hands. How could he be so horrible? Couldn't he see that this was hard for her, too? She didn't want to hurt James. It was the last thing she wanted. She fancied him. A lot. Just because she didn't love him yet...

"Oh for fuck's sake, Evans, get a grip!" His tone didn't soften even fractionally, if anything it was colder than previously. "I need you to pull it together and explain to me how it is, after everything that's happened, after all he's done for you, that you're _not_ in love with him. Just what kind of fucked up, soul-less bitch are you?"

"Go to hell, Black!" she sobbed out, fleeing from the room--and him. She took the stairs two at a time, stumbling and nearly falling in her haste to get away. She hated Black. Hated him! Because he was...

Right.

She _was_ a cruel, heartless bitch. James should have just let her die.

* * *

_A/N: Oh, come on now! You didn't honestly think Sirius was going to let her get away with that did you? _


	24. Chapter 24

_A/N: I know. An update. You're all probably dying of shock. Two words, loves, quarter end. A magical period that occurs four times a year, during which I work sixty hour weeks and my damn Blackberry never stops ringing. Good times. Good times. But to my credit, I don't usually keep you hanging for this long. And you know it. So quite whining:)_

* * *

"Good morning, _sunshine_." Black said, a sneer marring his otherwise perfect features. "About time you decided to get up. Not much the blushing bride, huh?"

"Go to hell." She growled, waving her wand. The cup in her hand filled with good, _strong_ tea--no cream thank you--and she took a tentative sip.

"You _look_ like hell." He commented casually. "And you'd ruddy well better hurry. We have to meet James in--" He drew out a silver-crested pocket watch. "--twenty minutes."

"What?" The cup fell from her suddenly nerveless fingers, shattering on the tiled floor, tea pooling at her feet.

"You heard me." He raised a brow, eying the mess on the floor with no little distain. "Classy, Evans. Really. Quite graceful. _Evanesco!_" The tea and cup vanished without a fuss.

"Sod off, Black." She sank into a chair.

"Look," He said gruffly. "I may have been...a bit harsh last night."

"A bit harsh?" Her voice jumped three octaves. "A _bit_ harsh? Black what the _fuck_ is your problem? What do you want from me?"

"Call it off." He replied quickly. "Don't go through with it. Don't do this to him."

"Oh, _right_, because crushing him now would do wonders for the situation." Lily replied, sarcasm dripping from her tongue.

"Fuck." He muttered. "But it doesn't matter. It's better for him to get it over with now. Just let him go."

She looked up, glaring. "I would never do that to him. I owe him far too much. It would...kill him."

His expression softened, the cold hatred fading from his eyes. "You care for him then?"

What an utterly moronic question! She tilted her chin up, facing him with tightened jaw and defiant expression. "Of course I do! How could I not?" She scoffed.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He blinked--twice--considering. "I thought--"

"You didn't think! You just jumped to the wrong ruddy conclusion and ran with it!" Her eyes slitted, her hands fisted at her hips.

"Well ok then." He said grudgingly. He paused, the stony glint returning to his eyes. "But if you hurt him, Evans, you won't have to worry about Death Eaters, because I'll finish the job for them."

She smirked, tossing her hair. "Honestly, Black, as if he'd let you."

"You really are a bitch." He snarled at her.

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "This is hopeless! We're going in circles. And we're going to be late."

"Look. I'm sorry, ok? You're an odd bird, Evans. I can't get a clear read on you. Just when I think I have you sorted out, you go and do the last thing I'd expect. You're a bloody pill!" He sighed. "Which is probably why he's so head-over-feet over you."

"I fancy him quite a bit myself. I wouldn't be marrying him otherwise." She finger combed her hair, wondering how on earth she'd ever make it presentable. Charms was _not_ her strong suit.

"Here. Let me help you." He waved his wand at her in a casual, lazy manner.

Instantly her eyes--swollen and blood-shot from a night's worth of crying--were back to normal. And her hair. Her hair. Her loose waves were suddenly more defined--curly.

"What did you do to my hair?" She wondered, touching it tentatively.

He cracked a smile. "James will like it. Trust me."

"Are you sure?" Lily questioned, twirling a curl. It was so like the style she'd worn on her first date with Paolo that Lily couldn't help but think that it was bound to raise bitter memories.

He grinned. "Oh, he'll like it. It's just like that time you spent hours in the loo fixing yourself up for that Death Eater. He couldn't stop talking about it. He went on. And on. And on. You get the picture." His words were un uncanny echo of her own thoughts, but with a spin that Lily hadn't anticipated. She had the grace to blush.

"I didn't know it made such an impression." She muttered.

"Yeah. Well. It did. You knew he watched you the whole time. Why are you surprised?" Black's words were clipped, laiden with the malice of a very good friend who'd been forced to watch his mate suffer.

"I knew he watched me." She affirmed. "It was rather creepy. But sad..."

Black's expression was back to humorless. "Yeah, Evans, creepy. You tortured him the whole time, because all he could think was how much he wished he was in Giovanni's place. Sad and creepy."

"I'm sorry." She said earnestly. "I never meant to hurt him. But I can't control how I felt. How I feel."

"I don't think you know how you feel." Black replied, watching her face. "I think deep down, you feel more for him than you want to admit. You're just afraid."

He paused, grinning _that_ grin. "But you're a coward who looks absolutely fabulous. Perfectly shaggable. If it weren't for James..."

"You still wouldn't get any." She finished for him.

"Keep telling yourself that, Evans, keep telling yourself that."

"I still hate you." She commented in an off-hand manner, twirling a curl absently.

"No you don't. You love me." He paused. "Now come on, we're _late_."

* * *

Black was right on one account at least, they were late--hopelessly so. They arrived at their destination--the Ministry of Magic--in a frantic rush. Lily would have been awed by the sheer novelty of being in the Ministry, had the circumstances been different. They found James waiting for them near an enormous fountain, a fountain that Lily would have derided as utterly ridiculous if anyone asked her opinion. She opened her mouth to say precisely that, but was stopped by her anxious...

Fiance?

How odd to think of him as such. They were barely aquainted.

"You're late." He said in a scolding tone, looking from her to Black. "I thought...well..." He hesitated, watching her face carefully.

"I'm sorry." She said honestly. "Black--"

"Tried to pry her away from the mirror, but she just wouldn't budge. Spent hours getting ready." Black cut her off quickly.

"You did?" James asked her in delighted tones, rumpling his impossibly messy hair.

Lily cast Black a surepticious glare and opened her mouth to contradict him, but stopped at the ridiculously pleased expression on James' face. Black raised a brow at her in silent challenge. She nodded in response. It was an unspoken accord--protect James. He didn't need to know that his best mate had tried to call off his wedding anymore than he needed to know that his finace had woken at the last possible minute, looking like a wreck.

"I wanted to look nice." She said softly, dropping her eyes to her shoes and blushing a bit at the lie.

He stepped towards her, cuping her chin and forcing her to meet the warm hazel of his eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. Since when did Potter have beautiful eyes, _chocolate _eyes swimming with flecks of green and gold? Had he always looked at her like that? Like she was everything? Like she was his whole world?

"You look fantastic." His voice was deep and resonating. Seductive in a way that made her want to fling herself into his arms and snog him senseless.

"I don't..." She protested, finding it distinctly hard to speak.

He responded by kissing her softly on the mouth. Once. Twice. He leaned in for a third but stopped, interrupted by some heavy throat clearing by Black. Lily wished ferverently that guests to the Ministry weren't required to check in their wands. Black was in need of some serious hexing, hexing Lily would be delighted to provide.

"Alright then." James said awkwardly, securing her hand in his. "I suppose we should..."

"Get on with it?" Black supplied, giving off the general appearance of boredom.

But Lily knew better. She'd seen how concerned he was on James' account. All of his attitude was merely show to cover his anxiety.

"Not exactly what I meant, but...yeah let's go..."

"Get married!" Lily put in, forcing enthusiasm into her voice, enthusiasm that she didn't feel. She was terrified. She was about to marry a complete stranger.

The two boys looked at her, Black incredulously and James in amazement.

He smiled. "Right. Follow me."

He lead them on a meandering path through the maze of corridors and into a packed elevator. They exited in a crowd of other witches and wizards, all apparently applying for licenses of some sort. He paused outside of a small stall that reminded Lily unpleasantly of a Muggle Theater Box Office.

"Ready?" He asked her, his expression anxious, as if he feared that she may still back out.

"I feel like I've been ready forever." She replied evenly, trying to reassure not only him, but herself as well. Black gave her an approving look, a look that said he was certain she was lying, but wanted to hug her for doing so.

James smiled again and lead her forward.

"Names." Demanded a tiny, ancient witch, her eyes never leaving the quill and parchment that hovered before her.

"James Potter and Lily Evans." James said firmly. The quill scratched out this information of it's own accord.

"You've filled out the appropriate forms? The application for Official Matrimony and the Consent of Parties?" She sounded skeptical.

"Yes." James affirmed, sneaking a glance at Lily. She smiled faintly, unable to keep the tremble from her lip and the fear from her eyes.

The witch gave a bored gesture with her wand. One of the hundreds of file cabinets behind her flew open and a file danced out to hover before the official. She retrieved it from the air with a practiced hand, and peered through the contents.

"Everything seems to be in order." The witch sounds amazed by this, as if no one had ever followed procedure so flawlessly before.

She thrust a piece of parchment across the counter at them. "Sign here, and here, and here. Inital here. Read steps one through twenty and intial here. Sign at the bottom."

James accepted quill the witch handed him and looked about. "There's no ink?" He questioned.

The woman stiffled a yawn with her hand. "You won't need any."

James raised a brow at Lily and Sirius then shrugged, following the witch's instructions. Red ink seemed to flow from the quill with each scratch he made.

"Ow!" He exclaimed suddenly. "It's..." He seemed a bit horrified.

"Blood." The woman affirmed, her annoyance evident. "Required in all legally binding contracts. Marriage is nothing to take lightly."

James watched her for several moments, as if waiting for the woman to retract her statement. She stared back, unblinking. James sighed and continued, hurrying through the required signatures and initials with an unseemly haste. He handed the quill to Lily and rubbed at his hand.

"Your turn, love."

She took the thing with no little distaste and followed suit, steadfastly ignoring the insistant sting on the back of her hand in favor of completing the task as quickly as possible. She didn't bother to read it.

"Done." She murmured, tossing down the quill and parchment. She started to rub at her hand, but James grabbed it, turning it over in his to draw to to his mouth, peppering the surface with kisses.

The official looked scandalized, snatching her document and quill with more force than necessary. Black made retching sounds, which he promptly ceased following a hard look from James.

"Your witness?" The woman all but hissed at them.

"Here." Black stepped forward, signing the document next to a large golden seal at the officials prompting.

"Your paperwork has been appropriately filed." She droned, vanishing the parchment and quill with a casual flick of her wand. "Congratulations."

"That's it?" Lily wondered, staring at the woman in disbelief.

The woman glared back and made no response. "Next."

James led her away gently, leaving Black to follow, trailing behind at a distance.

"You're not disapointed are you?" He asked her anxiously. "I told you it wouldn't be a real wedding..."

"No. No." She replied distractedly. "It's fine. I'm just a bit..."

"Overwhelmed?" He supplied, watching her carefully.

"Well...yes." Her pulse was pounding. They were married. She was married to James Potter. A bloke she hardly knew. A bloke she'd never dated. What was she thinking?

But before she had a chance to analyze further, Black pushed past her, pulling his mate into a brotherly hug.

"Congratulations, mate!" Black exclaimed, enthusiastically patting James' back.

"Thanks." James replied, his expression as dazed as Lily felt.

She watched them awkwardly, unsure of where she fit into this happy scene. At last they broke apart, and Sirius punched him on the arm.

"I trust you have plans?" He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

James laughed. "Of a sort. For starters I plan to take me _wife_," He seemed to take great pleasure out of saying the word. "to our new, temporary home."

"And shag her till she can't walk straight." Black put in with a grin.

Lily's eyes widened and her jaw dropped a bit. Black really was a git.

James blushed a charming red and shook his head, casting an apologetic glance at Lily. "That, Padfoot, most definitely qualifies as none of your bloody business."

Black shrugged. "I suppose it's as much my business as anyone's, considering that I'll be dealing with the immediate fallout of what you two have done, while you're snug in your little love nest."

"Thanks, Pads. I can't tell you what this means to me." He said to Black earnestly.

Black shrugged. "Yeah, yeah. You can thank me later. If Dumbledore lets you live."

Lily's level of discomfort was increasing. She hated that they were once again speaking as if she weren't present. But James noticed her nervous shifting and walked past Black, taking her hand and twining it with his.

"Ready?" He breathed into her ear.

Lily nodded, her knees going weak at his nearness.

"Then let's go home."


	25. Chapter 25

_A/N: You can thank Suddy for this chapter. She sent me a scolding PM and made me feel bad for being so remiss in updating my stories. Thus, this chapter is dedicated to her. _

* * *

"So," James remarked, eying her closely--with a distinct air of nervous unease. "This is it."

Lily set down her bag, hastily packed mere hours before--before she became Mrs. James Potter--and looked about. James continued to watch her, his anxious hands disheveling his characteristically messy hair.

"I know it's not much but it's not forever. As soon as—"

"It's fine," Lily interrupted quickly, half afraid of what he was about to say.

They'd barely been married an hour. She wasn't comfortable yet with references to their long-term future. She was still trying to come to a grip with now; with being married to a man who was fundamentally a stranger.

"It's better than fine," she continued, after casting a brief glance his direction and noticing the lines of worry marring his features. "Because I'm with you."

Their eyes locked for a moment, his searching hers for something he seemed to despair of finding. He dropped her gaze.

"Because my company is preferable to Sirius'." It wasn't a question. It was a slightly bitter and disappointed statement; one Lily scarcely knew how to respond to.

"Yes," she said simply, opting for the truth. "Sirius is…"

"Different?" supplied James, still not meeting her eyes.

She cringed a bit. "I was going to say 'a pig' but 'different' works too."

James chuckled, a deep masculine sound that sent tiny shivers down her spine. "And to think I was worried."

"Worried?" She studied his face carefully, wishing he would look at her again, really _look_ at her, like before.

"Yeah…" He scuffed the polished wood of the floor with his toe, his cheeks reddening slightly. "I thought that Padfoot would…" He trailed of, seemingly unwilling to finish.

"Sweep me off my feet? Or perhaps, as he so _romantically _put it 'charm my knickers off'?" She finished for him.

James looked up quickly. "He said that?"

Now it was Lily's turn to laugh. "That he did. When he isn't insulting me or berating me for breaking your heart, he's quite the Casanova."

"So I take it you didn't fall victim to his silver tongue?" The question sounded teasing, _casual_, but there was a distinct undertone of mingled concern and jealousy that Lily couldn't help but note.

"Hardly!" She scoffed. "I barely tolerate him! One minute, he's sweet and charming, the next he's rude and derogatory. He's nutters!"

James cracked a smile. "I can't tell you how glad I am to hear you say that."

She arched a brow. "You can't possibly think that I would fall for the perverted bundle of crazy that is Sirius Black, now, can you?"

"You fell for Giovanni." James replied frankly, his hazel depths darkening with some complex tangle of emotions that Lily couldn't identify.

"I…" Tears pricked her eyes, unbidden, as she struggled for a reply.

"Forget it." He said quickly. "You must be tired." He added, suddenly desirous of a change in topic.

"I am." She replied.

She wasn't, but anything was preferable to the current course of conversation. She couldn't talk about Paolo with James. Her husband, she corrected her thoughts. She was still confused, uneasy and slightly sick to her stomach. Everything was happening so fast. She felt her knees buckle beneath her, and she flailed about a bit in an attempt to prevent what she saw as her inevitable tumble to the ground.

Considering she was quite prepared to make her acquaintance with the floor, it came as a shock when, instead, she found herself pressed against the toned, hard ridges of James' chest, his arms locked firmly about her. Her eyes snapped to his face, the heat of an embarrassed blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Oops." James said, his breathing suddenly heavy and labored.

She swallowed around the lump in her throat, realizing abruptly that the flush of her cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with his close proximity.

"I…" She suddenly found the simple, autonomic task of drawing breath arduous. "I think I should sit down."

He nodded in reply. "Let me help you."

Lily's eyes, which were currently staring quite intently at the floor below them, drifted to his face, to find him staring at her almost helplessly. She drew in a weak, shuttering breath then licked her lips nervously. He seemed to take it all in—her nerves, her embarrassment—as his intense hazel orbs roved across her face and fixated on her freshly moistened mouth. He groaned softly and leaned inward, his intent clear. Lily pulled back abruptly, her action flex, breaking his hold about her waist and nearly tumbling onto her arse in the process. Hurt and disappointment flickered so briefly across his face that Lily wondered if she'd seen them at all.

"I'm sorry." She muttered, careful to keep her eyes trained on the floor.

"Would you like to sit down?" His words were nearly a plea. "I'll fix you some tea."

"Brilliant." She replied, allowing him to take her elbow and gently guide her into the sitting room.

With a quick flick of his wand, the fireplace roared to life. Lily smiled at him gratefully, a smile he returned tentatively. He saw her settled onto the warm fluffy cushions of the couch before making a rather hasty retreat, presumably to the kitchen to fetch the promised tea. Lily watched him go, feeling guilty at the acute sense of relief she felt to be out of his presence. He was so intense and passionate, so _sure_ of everything. Lily felt anything but. She need time to think, to ponder. She needed to get to know James. Of course she knew him, knew of him and the things he'd done. But she didn't _know_ him the way a lover, a _wife_ should.

Her thoughts drifted, inevitably to Paolo. She couldn't help it. She'd known Paolo, loved Paolo and cared for him in a way she wasn't sure she would another man ever again. It frightened her to think that she might never feel the same passion, the same overwhelming desire just to be near him, for James. Worse still, she knew with pulse-pounding certainty that James _did_ feel those things for her. What kind of fair was it to him? Black was right. She was a _horrible_ person. James was fantastic. He didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve him. But shouldn't she give this a chance? Shouldn't she give James a chance? He'd cared for her and loved her for years with no encouragement on her part. He'd tried to save her from pain, pain the man she loved inflicted on her without more than a moments hesitation. He'd brought her back from the brink of death, giving her some of his own life-force in return. He'd killed for her, fractured his very soul for his love for her? How could she abandon that? How could she treat it as if it meant nothing?

"Here." A gentle voice to her right said, interrupting her thoughts. "Drink this. You'll feel better."

She accepted the proffered cup and took a tentative sip. No cream. How had he…? She wrenched her eyes away from the dancing flames to look at him. He settled next to her, close, but not too close, and took a sip from his own cup. Sensing her eyes upon him, he looked at her, a ghost of a smile lighting his eyes.

"No cream?" She asked lightly.

He smirked a bit, that old, self-satisfied curving of the lips that Lily used to think was tangible proof of his unbelievable arrogance.

"I know everything about you, Lily." His tone, however, lacked the flirtatious manner he used to accompany the smirk. Instead, they were spoken with the air of unvarnished truth.

"And I know so little about you." She murmured under her breath.

"Didn't catch that?" He said, taking another sip of his tea, a too casual sip that seemed to imply that he'd heard her perfectly well, but didn't want the words to be true.

Looking at him, seeing the adoration for her that seemed to emanate from his very being, Lily realized something.

"I've made a terrible mistake."

The words hung in the air between them.

"Come again?" His voice was strangled.

"I made a terrible mistake." She repeated.

James stared at her, wide-eyed, as his tea cupped tumbled to the floor and shattered.


	26. Chapter 26

_Previously:_

_Looking at him, seeing the adoration for her that seemed to emanate from his very being, Lily realized something._

"_I've made a terrible mistake."_

_The words hung in the air between them._

"_Come again?" His voice was strangled._

"_I made a terrible mistake." She repeated._

_James stared at her, wide-eyed, as his tea cup tumbled to the floor and shattered._

* * *

Lily ignored the shattered cup, which crunched slightly under her feet as she shifted to lean towards him, bemused, affectionate, interested. 

"I should have kissed you," she said into the strained silence that hung between them.

He made no reply, staring at her blankly as though he'd either not heard or refused to believe a single word she'd just said. Instead, he waited on baited breath for her next move. She discarded her steaming teacup, dropping it onto a nearby table with a careless disregard that sloshed hot liquid onto the polished surface. She paid the spill little heed, caught fast in the clutches of an impulsive desire too powerful to control. Wraping her slim, pale arms about his neck, she leaned forward the rest of the way to close the distance between their mouths. As with their first kiss, James froze, his cold lips tense and unresponsive beneath her moist, warm ones. She flicked her tongue delicately across the seam of his lips--coaxing. He remained motionless, as if paralyzed with shock. She kissed him more ferverently, her mouth open against his, her hand sliding to rest on his chest through the soft, skin-warmed material of his shirt. Nothing. Nada. Ziltch. No movement from James what-so-ever. Using her hand for leverage, she pushed back, breaking contact, frustrated by his lack of response to her impassioned caresses. Brow furrowed and eyes narrowed, she met the astonished hazel of his eyes.

He blinked. His mouth opened and closed. He blinked again. She waited, watching as he drew in a series of shallow, labored breaths.

"Kiss me," he demanded in a hoarse whisper.

She moistened lips gone suddenly dry with the tip of her tongue.

"I just did," she pointed out.

"I know." He sounded mildly annoyed. "Kiss me again."

"You just sat there," she continued.

"I realize that," he replied. "Kiss me again."

She swallowed, feeling inexplicably nervous at the sudden hunger she read in his eyes. She leaned towards him--slowly--to oblidge his request, only to find herself hauled forcibly onto his lap a fraction of a second before her lips brushed his. Startled by the abrupt violence of his actions, Lily would have pulled back, but James gave her no such opportunity. Coiling a hand into her tumult of red curls he pulled her forward fiercely, capturing her lips. His mouth crushed down on hers hungrily, desperately. She made a shocked sound of arrousal and arched, pressing her breasts into his chest. The taste of him exploded in her senses--sensual and intoxicating.

He groaned her name into her mouth. "Lily."

His free hand was wandering, sliding from her hips to her arse, dragging her closer. She clutched at him, gasping as the thick, hard length of his growing erection ground into her--a blunt statement of his desire. His tongue thrust past her lips and teeth, penetrating her mouth with mating precision. Lily threaded her hands into his thick, messy hair and abandoned herself to the stroke and swirl of his tongue. He shifted, his Quidditch-honed muscles tensing with anticipated movement. And suddenly she was falling, tumbled onto her back into the fluffy softness of the couch cushions with James atop her. His hand, still threaded through her hair, balled into a fist. Drawing her head up and back, he broke contact, staring into her bright green eyes with a mixture of anger and desire.

"Don't ever, _ever_ do that to me again." He said in a fierce whisper, his lips brushing lightly across hers.

She opened her mouth, intending to apologize.

"I--"

He cut her off, stilling her words with a searing kiss that left her panting and breathless. He nibbled his way to the corner of her mouth, teasing her with lips and tongue and wicked skill. She moaned and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, dragging it up, desperate to touch his bare skin. He captured her hand with lightning precision, as though it were the snitch he used to show off with back in fifth year, and pinned it above her head.

"You have no idea," he murmured as he lowered his head to kiss her throat. "None at all."

He rolled his hips against hers, causing her legs coil instinctively about his waist.

"I nearly died," he said between kisses.

His hand, which had been manacling her wrist, slid down the length of her arm to cup her breast though the thin material of her shirt, his touch soft, almost reverent.

"I thought I'd lost you."

He rubbed his arrousal into the wet heat between her thighs, as his deft fingers stroking and teasing her beaded nipple.

"I almost lost you once, Lily. I can't face that again." He murmured, his mouth against her pounding pulse.

He reclaimed her lips with savage need, his tongue driving her mindless with the most intense desire she'd ever known. She tugged at his shirt again, perilously close to losing control.

"Can't." He breathed into her mouth, reluctantly peeling his lips from hers.

She groaned in protest and clutched at him, trying to renew contact. He resisted.

"You won't." she assured him, leaning up and kissing him.

He capitulated immediately, crushing her into the couch, his kisses famished and needy. His mouth was quickly driving out the last vestiges of thought from her mind. She tightened her thighs about his waist, jerking him against her.

He let out a low, primal moan before pulled away with a muttered: "Too dangerous. Better stop."

"Why?" she wondered, the word more a plea than a question.

He stared down at her through hazy, lust-fogged eyes, his breath coming in ragged pants.

"If I don't stop now, I won't be able to," he explained patiently as he sat up.

"Oh..." she said articulately, sitting up as well.

This wasn't going at all like she'd planned. He wasn't supposed to stop.

She touched his arm and fixed him with what she hoped was a suggestive look. "I'm going to bed."

He arched a brow at her. "It's not even noon yet."

Honestly! Where all men this thick? "I know." she replied, fluttering her lashes at him.

"Are you that tired?" He asked with sudden concern.

She sighed and bit her lip in vexation. "No. I'm not tired _at all_."

His eyes widened in sudden understanding. "Lily..." He paused. "I'm more than content to just kiss you. You don't have to..." His cheeks were turning pink.

"But...we're _married_," she protested.

He hesitated, clearly torn. "Yes, we are."

"So?" She arched a brow at him, waiting.

"So...I want our first time to be special." He said after a moment of silence.

"It's not my first time." She hastened to remind him, realizing her mistake too late.

His handsome features settled into a distinctly pained expression.

"It's not mine either." He said quickly, so quickly that Lily had to wonder...

"But it's _our_ first time," he continued. "And I want..."

Lily waited as he struggled for words.

"I want you to be in love with me." He finished.

"James..." she said softly.

He shrugged off her arm and stood.

"I'm starving," he said.

"James..." She tried again, holding her hand out to him.

He ignored her. "I'll see about preparing a little lunch."

She stood. "I'll help."

"No!" He yelped in protest. "No." He repeated, softer. "You're still recovering from your injuries. I'll take care of it."

"But..."

"Lily," he grinned at her. "You should know by now that I never give up until I get my way."

She grinned back and sat back down on the couch. "You know what? I just might have noticed that."

* * *

_A/N: I am well-aware of how incredibly evil my previous chapter was. I must admit, I took perverse pleasure in it. It was too delicious to resist. I hope you find this chapter just recompense for the anguish of the preceding one. _


	27. Chapter 27

_A/N: Here it is folks, an update as promised in the Author's note of the last update of "My Secret." Is it on par with the rest of the fic or am I fumbling as I try and get back into the writing groove? You tell me, but be gentle, as I am still writing and updating via Blackberry. And feel free to yell at me for being so remiss in updating, I more than deserve it. _

* * *

Lily sighed deeply and threw herself onto one of the two, tiny wooden chairs positioned against the knobby kitchen table.

James Potter was driving her insane.

Completely nutters.

She sighed again, propped her elbows on the table, and sank her head into her hands.

Two days.

For two agonizingly long days she'd been Lily Potter and James still hadn't touched her.

How could he resist? Was he made of stone? Weren't teenage boys supposed to think of little else? What was wrong with him?

Or perhaps he wasn't the problem? Perhaps it was her? Maybe James didn't want her that way. She was, after all, damaged goods. Why would he want to be with a used up slag like her? She hadn't been good enough for Paolo; she wasn't good enough for James either. James was perfect, loyal and flawless. She was ruined, a mere shell of a woman.

He didn't even sleep in the same bed as her, for Merlin's sake! She dropped her arms and hit her head against the table, stifling a sob. She deserved this, no question about it. After all of her years of deriding and rejecting his repeated advances, she deserved this. She--

A rustling whoosh, followed by a soft insistent tapping stopped her thoughts cold. She lept to her feet, her heart in her throat and hastened to toss open the window.

They knew.

Dumbledore.

The mysterious Order of which everyone seemed to belong to but her.

Who else would be owling them?

The owl hooted loudly, shifted his weight and held out a foot.  
Lily accepted the proffered scroll with trembling fingers, half expecting a howler. The owl hooted again--a reminder. She dropped the parchment onto the counter and rummaged about for her wand. The owl perked up, his wise yellow eyes alive with excitement.

She waved it absently, calling the owl treats from the cupboard. The owl cooed in approval, testing the treat she shoved at him with tongue and beak before taking it from between her fingers. The owl satisfied, Lily retrieved the sealed letter, turning it over in her hands.

The creamy parchment bore no mark, save for an address, which read, simply, "the Doe.". How the owl had managed to deliver the letter to her with so little information was baffling. No wonder the cheeky little bugger had insisted on a treat, he bloody well deserved it.

She snapped open the letter, quite certain now of the sender. A quick perusal of the contents proved her right. No one but Sirius Black would write:

_Congratulations, Mrs. Prongs. I trust this missive finds you barefoot and pregnant?_

Lily laughed, loudly and suddenly, startling the bird, who ruffled his feathers and eyed her distainfully. Clearly Black was laboring under a grave misunderstanding concerning his mate's feelings for her. Nothing more than the completely platonic had occurred between them since that first morning.

Ignoring the bird's reproach, Lily penned her reply, sealed the scroll and sent the owl on his way. She tapped the counter, impatiently awaiting Black's reply and hoping he could shed some light regarding his mate's behavior. She didn't wait long. The owl returned before she could begin to fret--she all but snatched the reply from his leg.

_Yes, **Doe**. It's an inside joke. You're not meant to understand. Interesting bit of information, a doe being your patronus. Does Prongs know?_

_And what the ruddy hell do you mean he hasn't touched you? What did you do?_

She scratched out her response so quickly the parchment nearly tore. The owl, however proved reluctant to accept it, so she shoved a handful of treats at it. The owl wolfed them greedily, placated, and set off.

The owl took longer this time--she had more than enough time to start pacing nervously before it returned. The owl hooted his greeting, which Lily ignored, intent on the letter.

_Well aren't we snippy? Of course I assume it's your fault. How could it not be when he's crazy about you?_

_Have you tried lying to him?_

_PS: The bird is a greedy bugger. Stop feeding him or he'll get too fat to fly._

Lily bit her lip in vexation. Hadn't they had this conversation before? She couldn't lie to James about something like that, it wasn't right. She nibbled her quill, thinking through her reply carefully before attaching it to the owl and pointedly handing him a treat. Take that Sirius Black.

The owl was back so quickly that Lily was left wondering if he'd delayed on purpose before. The bird landed somewhat awkwardly, dropping a small package onto the counter. The package bounced, making a shocking amount of noise before coming to rest.

Lily flinched at the sound and looked about apprehensively. There was no way that James failed to hear the clatter. The house was tiny and she hadn't heard the water run for some time. No doubt James had finished his shower and would be arriving momentarily to investigate.

Lily tore open the package and stared, stunned, at it's contents. What in Merlin's name could have possessed him to send her such a thing? And more importantly, why did he have it on his person?

Numbly, she picked up the accompanying note.

_Fine. Your lofty point is taken. Now allow me to make mine._

She dropped the parchment from nerveless fingers, as a sound the cross between a laugh and a groan of disgust escaped her lips as a whimpering sigh.

She picked up the thing, a sheer compilation of black netting and red ribbon, eying it with great trepidation.

Where there women out there who would actually wear such a thing? Obviously there must be, for someone manufactured it, but still--

"What are you looking at?"

James!

Shite!

What was she going to do? How could she even begin to explain IT ...?

She whipped around, balling up the negligee in her fist and hiding it behind her back like a naughty child caught in the cookie jar.

"Nothing," she replied quickly. Too quickly.

He approached her, eyes alive with curiosity as he leaned inward to study her carefully. His eyebrow arched upwards as he took in her quivering lips and flushed cheeks.

"Oh, really, now?". He smirked.

Lily gulped and tightened her grasp on the offending garment.

Even though she was expecting it, she was still caught off guard when he lurched forward suddenly, one hand wrapping about her waist, the other snatching the negligee from her fingers.

He grinned at her for a moment, gloating, before turning his attentions to the tiny scrap of cloth. His expression changed as he held it aloft, going from triumphant to bewildered.

"What is this?"

Heat rushed into her cheeks and she wondered if it was possible to die of humiliation.

He looked from the garment to her and back again.

"Padfoot," he muttered, dropping the cloth back onto its packaging.

Lily watched him, shocked.

"How...?". She wondered.

James ducked his head, grabbing for the parchment and quill, but not before she caught sight of the flush staining his cheeks.

"It's a joke," he mumbled under his breath as he scratched out a reply.

"A joke?"

Nothing about this seemed funny to Lily.

"Yeah.". His cheeks were now red enough to rival her hair.

"About...?" She prompted.

He sighed and set down his note.

"Nothing. Really. Just something I may have mentioned to Sirius once.". He looked as if he wished the floor would open up and swallow him.

She arched a brow. " You mentioned something to Black about THAT"  
"Mmm-hmm," he replied articulately, avoiding her eyes.

"But why would Black...?"

She trailed off, her eyes meeting his as he looked up, reading something akin to guilt hidden amongst the green and golden flecks.

He waited, and then it was clear.

"Oh. Oooh...". She said knowingly. " You told Black you wanted to see me in this."

He rumpled his hair and cleared his throat.

"Something like that, yeah."

She smirked a bit.

"So Black--"

"Needs to mind his own business." James interrupted folding his parchment in half and attaching it to the owl.

"Not so fast," Lily protested, snatching the reply before he could attach it.

James tried to grab it back but Lily pivoted, turning her back to him to wedge herself against the counter, unfurling the letter as she did so.

"Are you trying to torture me, Padfoot?". She read aloud, dodging James as he made another grab.

"This is a serious breech," Lily continued, struggling against him as he reached around and manacled her wrist in his hand to try and restrain her.

"Of Marauder code," she giggled, as he whirled her about to face him.

He snatched again at the parchment, which she held aloft, dangling to allude him. She realized belatedly how absurd the gesture was. James was strong, coordinated and taller than her by several heads. She stood no chance of stopping him if he was determined. They grappled a bit before he pinned her, still fighting valiantly, and retrieved the letter.

Their fingers touched as he grasped the note. He looked down at her, smiling, then went rigid, his smirk frozen on his face.

He dropped the parchment, ignoring it as it fluttered to the floor.

She wiggled against him, conscious of both the muscular ridges of his tall frame and the cool surface of the counter digging into her lower back as he pressed into her. She moved again, her thigh brushing against something thick and hard, eliciting a deep groan from him. Lily swallowed, meeting the hunger in his eyes unflinchingly, painfully aware that they were no longer playing. His warm breath brushed her lips as if in foreshadow of events to come.

He leaned inward, closing the distance between their mouths to touch his lips to hers with scarcely more pressure than his breath had a moment ago, chaste yet sensual.

"Lily," he murmured into her mouth, his arm wrapping about her waist, his hand sliding down her arm to coil into her hair.

There was a pause, a moment of horrible indecision, with both of them motionless, mouths touching, breaths intermingling, lower halves brushing, before he claimed her lips forcibly, thrusting his searching tongue into the welcoming cavern of her mouth. She gasped as he ground into her, nearly bending her backward onto the counter with the force of his ardor.

His hand clutching her waist began to wander, skimming up her side and back, his searching fingers seeming to sear right through the material of her blouse, branding her. He tugged her hair, pulling her face closer, his mouth moving against hers with a wicked skill that left her breathless and panting.

He pulled his hand from her hair, his mouth from hers as if it were an act of tremendous will. Supposing him to be experiencing another untimely crisis of conscience, Lily was in no way prepared for him to suddenly slide both hands downward, grasp her arse and hoist her onto the countertop. A breathy squeal of surprised arousal escaped her lips, her legs wrapping tightly about his lean waist as if of their own accord, thrusting his throbbing hardness against the pooling heat at the juncture of her thighs.

"Fuck," he muttered, hesitating, then added "Sod it," so softly, she scarcely heard.

He pushed forward, thrusting, grinding against her and creating a delicious friction. She moaned again, wondering fleetingly what it was about James Potter that could reduce her to a state of mewling need, but his moist lips trailed the column of her neck driving away all rational thought. His seeking mouth found the hollow of her throat, the sensitive place where shoulder and neck met--nipping and sucking. She arched against him, her nipples beaded and pressing firmly into his chest.

He laid her backward, gently, onto the countertop, knocking the package and negliligee to the floor with careless disregard.

"James," she whispered as she lay before him, hair splayed behind her, hands clutching his forearms.

He looked down at her, taking in her lips, swollen from his kisses, cheeks flushed with ardor and heaving chest.

"Please," she begged breathlessly.

He hesitated, staring at her with wide, helpless eyes, breath coming in ragged pants, before reaching outward to reverently caress her cheek. Slowly, sensuously, his broom-calloused fingers traveled downward, bare flesh against bare flesh, pausing at the curve of her jaw, stopping on her neck to feel her fluttering pulse, then continuing inevitably to the V of her blouse. He toyed with the top button, worrying it between thumb and forefinger. After several moments of agonizing indecision he deftly popped it open. The next two buttons followed suit in rapid succession, exposing her silk-clad breasts to his intense hazel gaze. He reached outward, tentatively, making as if to touch them, stopped, cursed and raked his hands through his unruly locks.

Fearing the worst, fearing that he would stop, she grabbed his trembling hand and pressed it against the flesh-warmed silk he had so judiciously exposed a moment ago..

"Fuck, Lily, " he hissed through gritted teeth, pulling his hand away abruptly.. "Are you trying to kill me?".

He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "I'm only human. I'm just a man. How much do you think I can take?".

His eyes snapped open, locking with hers and searching for something he apparently failed to find, for he sighed again and took a shaky step backward.

"I can't take advantage of you. I won't."

Lily sat up, propping her weight on her elbows, her lips curving into an ironic smile.

"In case you haven't figured it out, James, I'm trying to take advantage of you, but you're making it annoyingly difficult."

He watched her for a moment then shook his head as if to clear it.

"I don't understand, Lily. I just don't get it." He sighed out, his expression contorted with conflicting emotions. "Why? Why do you want to do this so badly? Is it because of him? You're trying to forget him? Or because you feel sorry for me? Help me to understand."

She struggled to a sitting position so that she could face him properly.

"It's complicated," she murmured.

He arched a brow at her.

"Try me."

She moistened her swollen, friction burned lips, hoping to stall for time. How could she explain it to him when she didn't understand it herself?

"Well, for one thing, our marriage isn't valid unless it's consummated,". She said in sudden inspiration.

He blinked.

"Really?"

She nodded in affirmation.

He processed this for a moment then shrugged.

"Doesn't matter, no one knows us will believe that I didn't shag you silly the first opportunity I had."

"But--" she sputtered in protest.

He smirked at her. She scowled back.

"Anything else? Or was that all you had?"

She glared at him.

"Is it really so hard to believe that I simply want you?"

"Yes," he said bluntly.

"Ooh, you're impossible!". She shot back, throwing her arms up in frustration.

"So I've been told.".

He paused a moment before adding, "and you're not ready."

"I am.". She protested hotly.

"No, love," he said sadly, "I'm afraid you're not. And I need to take shower."

She raised a brow at him.

"Didn't you just take one?"

He grinned back sheepishly. "A cold shower," he amended, eying her up and down. " A really cold shower."


	28. Chapter 28

_A/N: I know it's been AGES since last I posted. Unfortunately, real life has once again gotten in the way. It seems only fair to let you all know that my posting will be sporatic over the next few months. Why, you might ask? I've recently discovered that I'm in the family way for the second time. Naturally, I'm thrilled, but the fatigue, morning sickness and other joys of early preganancy make it extremely hard to write. I'll not even mention my career and my family. Rest assured I have no intention of abandoning my stories. I'll post as I can. _

* * *

Lily was frozen in place, shocked into stillness by the sight before her. She shook her head as if to clear it, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

"What are you doing?" She demanded, her voice incredulous.

James flinched in surprise and nearly dropped the text propped haphazardly on his lap.

He looked up at her, eyebrows raised as if silently asking 'what does it look like I'm doing.'

After a moment's hesitation, he shrugged. "Studying."

She blinked. "Why?" Her question sounded like a shrill protest even to her own ears.

He stared back at her then began to laugh. " How do you think I achieve such flawless marks? But don't let it get round, it'll ruin my reputation."

He winked.

"Bollocks. You're a genius, Potter." She argued, momentarily distracted from her initial distress by his easy banter.

His eyes danced with amusement.

"So it's Potter again is it?"

Her hands went to her hips and she scowled, remembering why she'd never given him a chance before.

"Git."

He flashed her a winning smile.

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

She scowled again.

"Hardly," she scoffed.

He sighed and ruffled his hair.

"Are going to do this every time? Honestly. I'm beginning to think you're only after my body."

Tears of frustration pricked the back of her eyes. She sniffed, struggled and failed to control them. Two fat drops spilled over her lids and slid down her cheeks as all of her frustration, all of her fears and insecurities overwhelmed her sense of dignity.

"Are you crying?"

He was watching her intently now, an odd expression somewhere between pain and disbelief knitting his brows together.

"No."

She sniffed again, wiping at her eyes furiously with the back of her hand.

He was on his feet in a second, book sliding to the floor with a bouncing thump. He reached out to pull her into his arms. Childishly she turned away. He grabbed her anyway, wrapping her in the warmth of his embrace, tugging her gently until her back was intimately pressed into his front.

She jerked angrily, trying to pull away. He resisted easily, making a low sound of frustration. He leaned in, pressing closer until his face was buried into her curls, his lips brushing her ear. Intimate and somehow sensual. Her body responded, gooseflesh raising the hairs on her neck.

"Lily," he murmured into her ear.

She refused to reply, aware that she was being ridiculous, but too emotionally overwrought to care.

"Please," he begged, the hot air of his breath washing over neck.

She shivered, contemplating her next move. Sensing her indecision, he whirled her around to face him, locking her eyes in his intense hazel stare. Before she could process what was happening, before she could react, he moved, placing a hot, open mouthed kiss just under the curve of her jaw. His lips caressed flesh that wasn't quite neck, wasn't quite face, but lay somewhere in between. She melted into him, weak kneed and suddenly breathless, unprepared for the effect it would have on her. She clutched at him, her arms encircling his neck.

"You have no idea how much I want you."

His confession stilled the last of her weak protests.

She gasped in a breath as his lips collided again with the sensitive spot.

"I want all of you, Lily, heart and soul."

His kisses traveled her neck, fierce and hungry.

"Then,"

He ripped his mouth from her neck and looked at her, eyes smoldering with barely suppressed desire.

"Your body,"

He gave her no time to process this, enveloping her mouth suddenly and ferociously. Her fingers curled into his messy hair, forcing him closer. His hands closed convulsively, balling the material of her sweater into his fists as if to serve as an anchor against the temptation to wander.

He pulled back, sliding his hands upward to cup her face.

"I want to love you, Lily. I want you to love me. It has to be about more than the physical."

He kissed her again, this time tender and sweet. There was an innocence about it that defied definition. She didn't try. She didn't move to take control, to deepen it into something lustful and torrid. To corrupt a kiss so pure seemed a sacrilege, a sin that would overshadow all previous transgressions.

He pulled back, moving so slowly that she could scarcely pinpoint the moment his lips left hers. The rough pad of his thumb slid across her bottom lip and he smiled.

" I should study."

He took a step backward, the gentle curve of his lips turning into something akin to the arrogant smirk of old.

"Why?" She protested reaching out to draw him back to her.

He side-stepped, dodging easily.

"We do have to return to Hogwarts at some point, love. Holiday is almost over. Oh, and N.E.W.T.s?"

Bloody hell.

This hadn't occurred to her.

It should have.

She was Head Girl.

But it hadn't.

She assumed that this would be somewhat permanent. They were in danger. How could Dumbledore force her back to Hogwarts?

Logic told her that her that Hogwarts was the safest place in the magic world. Dumbledore was there. But Lily Potter was beyond logic. It wasn't the fear of being attacked that wrapped her into a cocoon of panic, nor was it the worry that Paolo wasn't the only Deatheater that walked those halls that sent icy chills down her spine. The foe she battled would pose a far greater danger--her own mind. How could she face it? How could she cope with the horror of returning to the place that was once her refuge but would now serve as a daily reminder of all she had lost? She wasn't ready. Not even close.

Her classmates.

How could she face them?

There were sure to be questions. Rumors. A boy had died over Holiday. Slytherin or no people would be curious. They'd want answers. She couldn't deal with it. She couldn't battle the memories of the past, the ghosts of a future that would never be, and listen to the shallow trite commentary of school mates that couldn't hope to understand..

"Are you ok?"

The concern in his voice drew her back to the present. She shook her head.

"Fine," she lied. "I just thought...I never...tired.".

His growing concern became palpable.

"Lily."

He made as if to rise.

She raised her hand to stop him. "Really. I'm fine. Just..."

Her voice choked as she forced down a sob that threatened to escape.

"Tired?". He supplied with obvious disbelief.

"Yes. I should probably..."

"Go to bed?"

She nodded and turned to go, trying desperately to control her trembling.

"It'll be ok."

It was a reassuring lie, but a lie never the less. Lily would never be ok again.

Tears spilled over the brim of her eyes as she turned to face him.

"I wish I could believe that.". She replied before fleeing up the stairs.

He called her name but made no move to chase after her.

He let her go.


	29. Interlude

_A/N: It has been ages since last I've posted, but to me it feels like a lifetime, as so much has happened in my personal life. This little interlude does not feel up to my usual standard, but I feel it is time to post something at least. Hopefully my muse will return and I can post more frequently....._

* * *

Lily heaved a deep shuttering sigh and rolled over, disgusted by her sodden pillow. With the back of her hand she wiped away the last of her tears, vexation at her own pathetic state quickly overwhelming the dispair that had gripped her only moments before. She rose from the rumpled bed and stared at her red, swollen face in the vanity mirror. Her reflection stared back at her pathetically--a marshmallow surrounded by a tangled mane of dark red. She turned her back on it, distracted by her rambling thoughts.

James had failed to make an apperance--had failed to check up on her. Predictably, she was irrationally concerned by this. Did it mean that he was as revolted by her lack of composure, by her questionable mental state, as she herself was? Did he regret marrying her? Could his feelings, his affection for her, have waned? Lily assumed that this must be so. What else could explain his lack of interest?

She paced the length of the room, mulling over these depressing questions and feeling sorrier for herself than any person had a right to. She had, after all, brought this entire wretched situation on herself. Worse yet, she had no idea how to fix it. She stopped and turned, sinking into the high-backed arm chair that flanked the bed. She rested her head in her hands, while her eyes wandered about the room until they alighted upon an opened package tossed carelessly in the corner. A wave of humiliation washed over her as she remembered the package and the circumstances behind it.

She should kill Sirius.

It wouldn't solve her problems or make returning to Hogwarts and facing the looming spectre of her past love any easier, but it would certainly make her feel better. She contemplated several painful and creative spells for achieving just such an end, then shook her head. As tempting as it was, Sirus Black was not worth a stint in Azkaban. Besides, James would likily take exception if she killed his best mate.

Deciding not to kill Sirius, brought her no closer to an answer to her problems and she was still left with a useless and embarrassing piece of nightwear.

Then it hit her.

Her eyes narrowed in sudden inspiration. Jumping upon from the chair, she scooped up the negligée from it's crumpled wrappings. Holding the flimsy configuration up to her body she again contemplated her reflection. It appeared to be a perfect fit. She blushed with embarrassment and shame at the realization of just how Sirius was able to purchase such an exact fit then shook her head. The how didn't matter right now. She would worry about that later. She quickly divested herself of blouse and bra then set to work wriggling out of her jeans. Her nickers soon followed joining the rest of her clothes in a heap on the floor. She eyed the negligée again this time with trepidation. After some maneuvering, she managed to slip it on and tie the ribbons in the appropriate places.

Tugging at the lace panel she returned her gaze to the glass. To her vast surprise she looked...smashing. Feeling better than she had in ages, she preened a bit, turning this way and that to admire her reflection. The weight she'd lost during her convalesance had honed her physique, but not at the expense of her curves. She smiled a bit, wondering how James would react if he he could see her now.

Perhaps that was the answer!

Merlin help her, perhaps Sirius Black was right. She bit her lip and wondered if she had the nerve to go through with it.

The morning.

She would decide in the morning. If she had the nerve, she'd wear it to breakfast.

Take that James Potter...


End file.
